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cSu-CJ!_ 3 'T^ , 

MRS.\WILLIAM WOOD) SEYMOUR, 

AUTHOR OF “ EASTER HOLIDAYS AT CEDAR GROVE,” “ CHRISTMAS 
HOLIDAYS AT CEDAR GROVE, ETC.” 


“ A path of peace amid the tangled grove, 

A moon-lit way of sweet security — 

Bright holy days that form a galaxy 
To make a road to heav’n — strains from above. 

Whereon the spheres of duty kindlier move, 

, Drinking pure light and heaven-bom harmony : 

Such is the path of thy calm Liturgy, 

Ancient of mothers, in parental love 

Daily unwinding from thine annual maze 
Treasures that wax not old, whence still may grow 
Fresh adoration.” 

The Cathedral. 


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DANIEL DANA, 

381 BROADWAY. 


1859 . 


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Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1859, 

By Daniel Dana, Jr., 

In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the United States for the 
Southern District of New York. 



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TO 

FRANCIS PUTNAM MANN, 

WITH THE EARNEST PRAYER THAT HE MAY EMULATE THE VIRTUES 

OP HIS 

NAME SAKE, AND OF HIS FATHER, 

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IS 

AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED 

BY 

THE AUTHOR. 




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PREFACE. 


Ascension, Whitsuntide, and Trinity complete the 
circle of the greater festivals of our Church, which the 
author has endeavored to illustrate for her young 
friends. 

The old-time stories about the minor festivals — 
perhaps — ^will be given by-and-by. 

Meanwhile, grateful for the heartiness which has 
welcomed — beyond their merits — her former little 
works, the author trusts she will find the same kind- 
ness extended to this. 


Passion Week, 1859. 





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WHITSUNTIDE 
tear «§rfllit 

CHAPTER I. 

‘‘That ev’ry man might keep his owne possessions, 

Our fathers used, in reverent Processions 
(With zealous prayers, and with praiseful cheere,) 

To walk their parish limits once a yeare. ” 

Withers’s Emblems. 

May’s merry month was drawing to a close 
in the Copake Valley ; eleven days more would 
bring the roses of June. The trees were covered 
with their tender leaves — foliage would be too 
heavy a name — and the fields were already gay 
with green grass, white and yellow daisies, golden 
butter-cups, while white clover blossoms filled 
the soft air with their delicious perfume. 

In the afternoon of this spring day, Mrs. How- 
ard and Jeanie Kuthven left the old stone Hall, 


8 


WHITSUNTIDE 


for a walk to St. Mary’s Church. Before them, 
Effie and Harry, followed by their loved Dash, 
went bounding over the meadows, gathering the 
bright flowers, and shaking their hats at the 
swarms of yellow butterflies which settled on the 
roadside, although they soon concluded that it 
was stupid work chasing the nimble little wings 
over fences and ditches — so onward the children 
dashed, right into the daisies, and left the path- 
way for “those two old ladies,” as they laugh- 
ingly called Jeanie and Aunt Effie. 

Jeanie had not been at school since the Easter 
vacation, for Madame La Yaniere pronounced 
her education flnished, but Jeanie (unlike most 
young ladies) agreed with her parents in think- 
ing it scarcely begun ; so she remained at home, 
reading and studying with her father, helping her 
mother in household duties, and wandering with 
Effie and Harry in their woodland rambles. All 
day long she had been assisting her mother in 
preparing for her brothers’ return. 

James had entered Trinity College ; Hed’s last 
quarter at Yalemontwas just flnished, and they 
were both expected in the evening train. 

• “How soon will Church be over, mamma?” 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


9 


asked Harry, as he joined his mother and cousin. 
“ You know we want to be at the station to meet 
Hed and Jem when the cars come.” 

“ Certainly,” replied Jeanie, “ Mr. Eivers only 
has the evening prayer, and the train is not due 
at Woodneath until six o’clock, so we shall have 
plenty of time to walk to the station after ser- 
vice.” 

Effie had returned from her race over the fields, 
and, holding Harry’s hand, she trudged slowly 
along, listening to her aunt’s conversation with 
Jeanie. By and by a word caught her attention. 

“ Kogation day ? What’s a Bogation day, Aunt 
Effie?” 

“ Oh, Effie !” exclaimed Harry — “ don’t you 
know the three days before Ascension Day are 
Rogation days, and to-morrow is Ascension Day ?” 

“ 1 know it, but I want to know what a Roga- 
tion day is. What’s it called Rogation for?” 

“If James were here, Euphie dear,” said her 
aunt, “ he would tell you that the word ‘ rogare’ 
in Latin means ‘ to beseech’ — and from that word 
comes our word ‘ rogation.’ These days were set 
apart by the early Church for fasting and prayer, 
to make us more worthy to receive the great 


10 


WHITSUNTIDE 


blessings which Christ by His ascension gained 
for us, and also to pray God to bless the fruits ot 
the earth, and avert all such evils as pestilence 
or war.” 

‘‘What was their origin?” asked Jeanie. 

“ Mamertus, Bishop of Vienna, in the fifth 
century appointed the Rogation fast, and used 
litanies accompanied with public processions on 
these days, on account of the frequent incursions 
of wild beasts and fearful earthquakes by which 
his city had been nearly ruined. In the begin- 
ning of the next century, the first Council of Or- 
leans appointed that they should be yearly ob- 
served, which order was obeyed in the Church 
until the Reformation.” 

“ What do you mean by Litanies ?” asked 
Harry. “ Did the people use the Litany which 
we have in our Prayer Book ?” 

“Hot exactly: I believe that at first all suppli- 
cations and prayers were called Litanies, but in 
the fourth and fifth centuries, those used in public 
processions were especially called Litanies or Ro- 
gations.” 

“ I find no special service for them in the 
Prayer Book,” said Jeanie. 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


11 


‘‘No, nor even a collect, but the Church of 
England has thought fit to continue the observa- 
tion of these days, as voluntary fasts. Among 
the Homilies there is one designated for the im- 
provement of them.” 

“What are the Homilies?” asked little Efiie. 

“They were sermons written after the Refor- 
mation in England. The first book of Homilies 
was set forth in the time of Edward YL, and the 
second book was published during the reign of 
Queen Elizabeth.” 

A turn in the road now brought St. Mary’s 
Church in sight. Its walls of dark brown stone 
were almost hidden by the ivy and American 
woodbine which crept over them. The church 
was cruciform, and the porch on the south side 
led into the nave. In a few moments the little 
group reached this porch. Dash — like a very 
good dog — laid himself down on the grass outside 
the door, and looked up in Effie’s face as much 
as to say — “ I will be a good doggie till church 
is over.” 

They entered. The afternoon sunshine stream- 
ed softly through the small lancet windows, and 
fell in rainbow beauty upon the cl i an cel arcli. 


12 


WHITSUNTIDE 


When the service ended it was some minutes 
before the kneeling congregation arose, and when 
they did so, they left the church in silence ; not 
pausing to talk and laugli with each other in 
God’s house, as is too often the case, even among 
good Christian people. While Jeanie was stand- 
ing near the porch, tying her little sister’s cape, 
Mr. Rivers joined them. “ Oh Mr. Rivers !” ex- 
claimed Effie — “Jem and Ned are coming home 
this evening; we’re going to the station now, to 
meet them.” 

“ Then I will go part of the way with you ; I 
have a visit to make in that direction,” said 
the Rector. 

Harry and Effie loved to walk with Mr. Riv- 
ers, so at first they kept close beside him, but 
their attention was soon attracted by a flock of 
geese marching up the road— off they ran for 
the fun of chasing the awkward birds. 

“How complimented you must feel,” said 
Jeanie, turning with a smile to Mr. Rivers. “ I 
am quite ashamed of my little sister’s prefer- 
ence of company !” 

“ On the contrary. Miss Ruthven,” replied 
Mr. Rivers, “you should be glad to see such a 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


13 


childlike taste and honesty of action ; for my 
part, it is much pleasanter to watch the little 
rogues chase those sober-looking birds, than to 
have them stay by me merely for the sake of 
politeness. I know that they are happier where 
they are. All through life. Miss Jeanie, en- 
courage people to act and say what they really 
mean.” 

“And set them the example myself,” half 
whispered Jeanie, thoughtfully. 

“ Yes ; as you grow older, you will find the 
world wanting in such honesty.” 

By this time Effie and Harry had returned 
from their goose chase, and, holding each others’ 
hands, walked soberly enough after Mrs. Howard, 
Jeanie and the Hector. 

“ One might think we were perambulating 
the parish,” said Jeanie. “ Suppose we call a 
few more children, and teach them the boun- 
dary line of Woodneath. Was that custom stop- 
ped at the time of the Reformation?” 

“ISTo,” replied Mr. Rivers, “but it was not ob- 
served with the same magnificence as before. 
All the other processions were abolished by rea- 
2 


14 


WHITSUNTIDE 


son of their abuse. Yet perambulating the cir- 
cuits of parishes was retained.” 

“Do you remember any particular mention 
of them after that time? To tell the truth, Mr. 
Rivers, I know very little about the customs.” 

“Among the injunctions of Queen Elizabeth,” 
replied the Rector, “we find that the curate 
and principal men were to walk about the bounds 
of their parishes once a year at the accustom- 
ed time, which was always in Rogation week 
— sometimes, but I believe not usually — on As- 
cension Day. At convenient places they were 
to repeat the ‘Benedic, anima mea,’ and ad- 
monish the people to give thanks to God for 
the increase and fruits of the earth, and to pray 
for the continuance of those blessings. The 
minister was also to remind them that ‘ Cursed 
be he who removes his neighbor’s landmark.’ 
Tliey then returned to the church to offer pray- 
ers, and listen to the sermon set forth for that 
purpose. If you will refer to the Book of Ho- 
milies, when you go home, you will find it is 
the lourth part of the sermon for Rogation 
week.” 

“ How the Church, in former days, entered 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


15 


into everj-day life with its duties and obliga- 
tions,” observed Jeanie. 

“ Yes,” returned the Hector ; “ she appointed 
this custom to teach people to be thankful to 
the Giver of all good, and to be honorable and 
honest towards men. Walton tells us that Hook- 
er — and there is no holier, nobler name in the 
English Church than his — would by no means 
give up this custom, and the account of the 
processions which he formed, is very beautiful.” 

“ Papa will be sure to read it to us,” return- 
ed Jeanie smiling, ‘‘for ‘Walton’s Lives’ is one 
of his favorite books. How surprised he will 
be when he finds I know something about ‘ Pro- 
cessioning.’ But, Mr. Rivers, how early was it 
observed in England?” 

“ I cannot tell you. The earliest account I 
remember, is found in the canons of Cuthbert, 
Archbishop of Canterbury, in the year 749. 
He ordered these Rogation days on the seventh 
of the calends of May, and used the words, 

‘ according to the custom of our forefathers,’ — 
which shows that it was ah old practice even 
in his time. 

“ A cross was carried before the priest, for . 


16 


WHITSUNTIDE 


which reason this week has been called, in 
some parts of England, ‘ cross week’ — the Dutch 
also call it ‘ crujs-week.’ The Saxons, how- 
ever, called it ‘ gang-dagas,’ that is, days of per- 
ambulation. ‘Gang-week’ is still used in the 
northern part of England, and you know in 
Scotland to ‘ gang’ means ‘ to go.’ ‘ Gang- 
wuca’ occurs in a rubric in the Saxon gospels. 
There is a certain plant called ‘ Gang-flower,’ 
or ‘ Eogation-flower,’ because it blooms at this 
time, and also because the young girls made 
garlands of it, which they carried in the pro- 
cession. The boys — ” 

“ Oh, what did they do ?” interrupted Harry, 
who, with little Effie, had been trotting close 
beside the Rector, and listening to every word 
he said. 

Amused at the interest which the little fellow 
had shown, Mr. Rivers laid his hand on Harry’s 
shoulder, and continued: “The boys carried 
peeled willow-wands, and it is said that they 
were sometimes whipped with these, to make 
them remember the boundaries.” 

“ Please don’t whip Effie and me with our 
‘ pussy-cat-willow,’ ” said Harry, pretending to 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


17 


look very mucli frightened, as he waved a great 
bunch of these pretty, furry twigs which his 
cousin had helped him to collect. 

“ Oh ! we don’t want whipping,” chimed in 
Eflfie ; “ we know that the river goes one side 
our parish, and there’s an old, broken, brown 
stone on the other ; we know the bounds well 
enough.” 

‘‘Those are the limits of the township,” re- 
joined Mr. Eivers. “In this state parishes are 
not marked by boundaries.” 

“ I must correct, in part, your geography, Mr. 
Rivers,” said Mrs. Howard. “The stone, to 
which Effie refers, is the point where the States 
of Massachusetts, Connecticut, and Hew York 
meet together.” 

“I ought to have remembered that,” returned 
Mr. Rivers, “for I heard an amusing anecdote 
a few days ago, from the Rector at Dalehill. 
You know, that in Massachusetts, persons are 
obliged to procure a license before they can be 
married. Last winter, my old friend was called 
to perform the marriage ceremony for one of 
his young parishioners, but, through forgetful- 
ness, or perhaps not knowing the laws of the 


18 


WHITSUNTIDE 


State, the bridegroom had neglected to secure 
the required permission. The company were all 
assembled, the bridal party had entered the 
room, when the minister recollected that he had 
not seen the license. He called one of the 
bridesmen to him, the husband elect -was con- 
sulted, and then the discovery was made, that 
no license had been obtained.” 

“ Delay was next to impossible, for the happy 
pair were to go immediately to Boston, and from 
thence their passage had been taken to Europe. 
As the house of the bride’s father was built on 
the State line between Massachusetts and Hew 
York, some of the guests proposed that they 
should walk across the line and be married. The 
snow was too deep to render this practicable out- 
side the house, but a small closet opening from 
the hall was in the State ^^N'ew York; into 
this the young couple went, while the clergy- 
man stood on the door-sill and read the marriage 
service !” 

“ It served them right for not being married in 
the village church,” said Jeanie — “the county 
clerk’s office is near by, and then they might have 
procured a license in a very few moments. How- 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


19 


ever, it is amusing to think they had to be put in 
a closet for getting married ! But to return to 
our subject” — she continued. “You speak of 
parishes in the time of Cuthbert ; I did not know 
that they were marked out so early.” 

“ Certainly, they were first distinguished in 
England under Honorius, Archbishop of Canter- 
bury, about the year 636 ; and it appears their 
limits varied but little from those of the present 
day ; for in the canons published in the times of 
Edgar and Canute, and also in the Doomsday 
book of William the Conqueror, the parishes 
agree very nearly with the modern divisions. We 
find that the boundaries of parishes were marked 
by crosses, and sometimes trees, called by the 
people ‘ Gospel Trees,’ because under their shade 
the clergyman paused to read the Gospel during 
the Procession.” 

“When did this custom of Perambulations 
cease ?” asked Jeanie. 

“ About the year 1765, although as late as Au- 
gust, 1790, there is an account of a procession of 
priests and choir boys, robed in their canonicals, 
who went around some town in England — Pvo 
forgotten its name — singing hymns.” 


20 


WHITSUNTIDE 


“ I’m much obliged to you, Mr. Eivers,” said 
Jeanie, when the Rector ceased speaking j “ and 
I’m almost ashamed to remind you that you 
have not yet told me the origin of ‘Proces- 
sioning.’ ” 

“I had not forgotten it, Miss Jeanie; but I 
feared you were weary listening to my long dis- 
course.” 

“Rot quite yet,” she replied, with a merry 
laugh. “You know I’m going to set an example 
of honesty, in word and act, to this world ; when 
I am thoroughly tired of your conversation I’ll 
tell you so.” 

“ Oh, Jeanie ! how rude you are 1” exclaimed 
Eftie, running up and shaking her little finger at 
her sister. “I’ll tell mamma.” 

“Then, Efiie, you’ll be mean,” said Harry, 
quickly. “You know, Jeanie would let Mr. 
Rivers talk till he was dead, before she would 
say she was tired listening to him. We all know 
she loves him better than any of us!” 

Poor Jeanie 1 If Mr. Rivers had not been 
looking directly at her, or if her veil had only 
fallen over her burning cheeks, she would not 
have lost her composure. 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


21 


But Mr. Kivers immediately replied, apparent- 
ly without noticing the blushing girl at his 
side : “ Why, Harry, it would be a queer way 
for Miss Jeanie to show her liking by allowing 
me to talk myself to death! I must defeat her 
object by not talking any more.” 

‘‘ You certainly will not refuse to answer a 
question,” said Jeanie, smiling, but without 
looking at the Eector — “ and, really, I should 
like to know the origin of Processioning.” 

“ You must be content with a very condensed 
account — we are quite near my stopping-place,” 
replied Mr. Eivers, “It is supposed to have 
superseded the feast ‘ Terminalia,’ which the 
heathens held in honor of their god Terminus, 
the guardian of fields and landmarks, and keeper 
of peace among men. Or it may come from 
the ‘Eobigalia’ and ‘Ambarvalia’ which the 
Eomans held in honor of Eobigus, who was 
worshipped to preserve the crops from mildew. 
You know when Christianity was first intro- 
duced, the people who had been accustomed to 
these heathenish feasts and processions, felt un- 
willing to give up their merry-makings, there- 
fore the missionaries Christianized them, as it 


22 


WHITSUNTIDE 


were, retainmg the festivities, but rejecting their 
paganism.” 

“Thank you,” said Jeanie ; “I’ll not ask you 
any more at present, for the station is before 
us, and I see Tim is already there with the 
carriage.” 

“And I must go in another direction,” said 
the Kector ; then turning to Mrs. Howard, he 
continued; “I hope the long account of ‘Pro- 
cessioning’ which I have been givings has not 
tired you.” 

“Hot at all; I’ve been much interested. I 
wish James and Hed could have heard your 
account.” 

“Hed would have made a practical apjdica- 
tion to your discourse, and had a procession of 
children before the parsonage this morning, if 
he had been at home,” said Jeanie. 

“But Mr. Kivers says that this parish hasn’t 
got any boundaries marked out,” interposed 
Harry, “so it wouldn’t have been any use to 
go ‘Processioning’ through the village.” 

“ Only it would have been fun,” remarked 
Effie. 

After making Mr. Bivers promise to come 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


23 


and see them very soon, the children let him 
proceed on his way. 

“ No wonder, Ned ; and all of us like him so 
much,” said Jeanie to her aunt, as her eyes fol- 
low^ed the retreating figure of the Rector — ‘‘he 
tells us so many new things, and he likes to 
see us laugh and enjoy ourselves. I’m sure he 
doesn’t like a gloomy religion any more than 
the old heathens did!” 

“ Only a more Christian one, let us hope,” 
said her aunt. “But remember, dear Jeanie,” 
she added more seriously — “it is just this pleas- 
ure of learning something new, which will be 
one of our enjoyments in Heaven, for there we 
will receive, day by day, new and more glori- 
ous lessons, while understanding will be given 
us to comprehend things which here seem mys- 
teries.” 


24 


WHITSUNTIDE 


CHAPTER 11. 


“’Tis said our Saxon tongue is rough, 

Not soft and smooth like those of Southern climes; 

Two words it hath, formed of sweetest stuff. 

Which breathe heart-music e’en in saddest times; 

‘ Home,’ is the one — our pulses thrill the other. 

The sweetest, dearest, word on earth is — ‘ Mother !’ ” 

Bevan. 

There is one question which strangers when 
they visit the heantifiil village of Woodneath are 
sure to ask, and they have asked it for the last 
twenty years, but the answer is ever the same. 
Little Effie asks the question now of the station 
master, who is busy raising the red flag to sig- 
nal the approach of the afternoon train from 
New York. 

“Mr. Kayman, why don’t you build a pret- 
tier station house? Such an ugly old » tumble- 
down shanty as this, spoils the looks of the pret- 
ty cottages.” 

This is the question, and here is the answer 


AT CEDAR GROYET 


25 


which Effie received, the stereotyped answer 
which always has been, always is, and, judg- 
ing from present appearances, always will be 
given. 

“Wall, Sissy, bis’ness aint so spry now-a-days 
as it used to be, and buildin’ costs a sight o’ 
money, and what’s everybody’s house is no- 
body’s — so nobody hinders liimself abeout it.” 

“ But somebody should,” said Harry, who 
had joined his cousin Effie. “ Squire Acres is 
president of the village ; why don’t he attend 
to it?” 

“ Jemime ! how yeou dew talk. Squire Acres !. 
when he’s got all them ’ere medders to sow,, 
and here ’tis nigh the first o’ June, and the 
ground a waitin’ for ploughin ’ — Jie stop to fix 
this ’ere house for the idle fellers who sit a 
smokin’ round it all day! Kinder guess he 
aint sich a stupid as that! Halloo! yeou cows 
there! git off the track!” So saying. Bob Kay- 
man started after the imprudent cows, while 
Effie and Harry sauntered back to the carriage 
where Aunt Effie and Jeanie were seated to 
await the arrival of Mr. Ruthven and the 
boys. 

3 


26 


WHITSUNTIDE 


The afternoon sun was throwing a deep yel- 
low light over green meadows, and stretching 
far away, where dark, damp mountains loomed 
up through the blue air, till their tops were 
almost hidden in the fleecy clouds which float- 
ed around them. Broad bands of this yellow 
light fell upon white cottage walls, and made 
them all the more cheerful, but the delapida- 
ted old building, before which the carriage was 
drawn up, looked dismally dirty. It is almost 
useless to describe it; any of you may see it 
by going to Woodneath, and Woodneath peo- 
ple are very sensitive, so they might not like 
me to be too particular in sketching this dis- 
grace to their village. Let me tell, however, it 
is a two-story building, covered with paint, 
which, tradition says, many years ago was white, 
a flight of broken wooden steps lead up to a 
piazza surrounding the entrance. On one side 
a plank is thrown across to the narrow platform 
by which the cars stop, and on which the pas- 
sengers crowd, pushing and squeezing each 
other, all pressing forward to get over the soli- 
tary plank, until they reach the stoop of the 
station house. 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


27 


Waiting for a train is tedious work, but Efiie 
had thrown herself on the front seat of the car- 
riage, and was begging Tim to tell her stories 
about the Indians, a task by no means distasteful 
to the old man, for he was a half-blood Indian 
himself, and once belonged to the old Stock- 
bridge tribe. Suddenly his quick ear caught the 
low rumble of the approaching train. 

‘‘They be three minutes beyond Dalehill sta- 
tion now ; hush, children, and you’ll hear ’e whis- 
tle.” Tim pulled out his old silver watch, which 
kept pretty good time when wound up “ reg’lar,” 
as he would say, “ and sot by der kitchen clock 
eb’ry time he corned in to his meals.” Tim 
thought it “ so respectable” to have a watch, that 
he little cared whether it kept time or not. 

“ Why, Tim, it isn’t half-past nine,” said Effie, 
as she glanced at his valued time-piece ; “ see, 
the sun has not yet gone down. It can’t be 
more than six o’clock.” 

“ Laws, Miss Effie ! Hebber mind Tim’s watch 
—look at ’e minute hand ; he keeps time if ’e 
hour hand don’t — can’t expect two things to go 
right in this ’ere world !” 

Before Effie could quite comprehend this 


28 


WHITSUNTIDE 


slightly misanthropical speech, a distant shrill 
whistle told that the cars were at the Dalehill 
station. A few minutes passed, and the screech- 
ing steam was heard again, more clearly and 
piercing than before. Effie pressed closely to 
Tim’s side and held fast his hard, tanned hand as 
the great black engine dashed past them, fling- 
ing a shower of sparks over their heads. 

But the train was still now, and the few pas- 
sengers had got out. ISTed’s voice, as usual, was 
the flrst heard. There’s my education-done 
sister !” pointing to Jeanie, as she ran forward 
to meet her father and brothers. “ How are 
you, dear old pet? And Euphie — come here, 
you precious fairy !” 

But Effie had been caught up by James, and, 
mounted on his shoulder, was riding in triumph 
to her place in the carriage. “It’s perfectly 
delicious to breathe this mountain air !” exclaim- 
ed J em, “ and to see you all once more. Where’s 
mother !” 

“ She did not feel well enough to go to church 
with us,” replied Jeanie, “and she knew that 
we would All up the carriage without her.” 

“ Hed’s carpet-bag takes as much room as he 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


29 


does himself,” remarked Harry. “May I sit 
down on it?” he asked his cousin — “I’m afraid 
I crowd you and Tim.” 

“ Sit down if you like,” returned Hed. “ There 
is nothing in it but boots, books, and brushes !” 

“ Improving companions for the hooks !” said 
James, laughing. “How did you pack your 
trunk without my assistance?” 

“ Oh, I folded up my clothes and pitched them 
in, then I jumped on them and squeezed them 
down, but when I found that all my books w^ould 
not go in my trunk, I put the least valuable ones 
in my bag.” 

“I’m glad to learn that you were thoughtful 
enough to do so,” said his father. 

“ Were you not sorry to say ‘farewell’ to Yale- 
mont!” asked Jeanie. 

“Yes, more sorry than you were when you 
left Madame La Yaniere ; and if Mr. Johnson, 
our congressman, had not succeeded in getting 
my appointment as cadet at West Point, I think 
I should have decked my cap with weeping 
willow. However, since Jem and that set of 
boys left Yalemont, we can’t kick up such gay 
old shindies as we used to could!” 

3 * 


80 


WHITSUNTIDE 


“ O, what grammar !” exclaimed Harry. 

“Never mind me, I can talk properly when 
I try — only I’ve been and gone and got used to 
talking any how !” 

“ Shocking !” said Jeanie — “ I should think 
you had. It would be well to ask Aunt Effie 
to teach you in class with Harry.” 

“No, no! I’ll eat the next grammar I pick 
up, and if I don’t ‘ orthographize,’ ‘etymologize,’ 
‘syntacize,’ and ‘prosodize’ over every one of 
you — there’s no truth in the Yision of Monk 
Martin !” 

“Displaying his knowledge already,” observed 
James, smiling. 

“I never heard of Monk Martin’s Yision — 
what was it?” asked Jeanie. 

“ Just think of a ‘ finished-off’ young lady . 
modest enough to confess herself ignorant of 
any thing 1” exclaimed Ned, lifting up his hands 
in mock surprise. 

“I’m net yet ‘finished off’ as you call it,” 
returned Jeanie, laughing. “You ought not to 
think that because I have graduated, I must 
necessarily know every thing.” 

“lou are right, my dear girl,” said her fa- 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


31 


ther; “but most young people, boys as well as 
girls, are apt to think themselves masters of a 
vast amount of knowledge, when in reality they 
know but very little. It is only by acquiring 
information that we discover how limited our 
stock is ; so we should strive all through life to 
study, if only for the sake of keeping us hum- 
ble in our own estimation. But tell us your 
story, Ned.” 

“ In the monastery of St. Isadore, there lived 
an old monk, named Martin. He was remark- 
able not only for his piety, but for a stupidity 
which has never been equalled until Edward 
Buthven came into the world.’’ 

“ Poor monk,” interrupted Jeanie, in a tone 
of compassion, “how extremely stupid he must 
have been !” 

Hed shook his fist at her, but continued. “ In 
vain he puzzled over his book and tried to 
learn ; so one night, after praying to his patron 
saint to assist him, he fell asleep. According 
to the legend, the saint appeared, and made 
him eat a book.” 

“ That was literally ‘ cramming’ knowledge,” 
interposed James. 


82 


WHITSUNTIDE 


‘‘Which he digested to some purpose,” re- 
turned ISTed, “for he awoke a learned old gen- 
tleman, and wrote Latin nearly as well as my 
erudite brother, Jem.” 

“ J^onsense,” said James. “ Monk Martin 
might have retained his remarkable stupidity 
unless he was a better scholar than njyself!” 

“Perhaps I think so, too,” answered Ned, 
“but it sounds better for you, than for me, to 
say it.” 

They soon caught a glimpse of the old stone 
walls of Cedar Grove Hall through the trees, 
and all thoughts, save those of being once more 
at home, were quickly driven from their heads. 

Mamma was standing on the piazza, and Ned 
sprang from the carriage the instant it stopped, 
and rushed up the steps for the first kiss. “ Look 
here, mother !” he exclaimed, throwing oflp his 
travelling duster, “I have not told the others 
yet.” 

“ Epaulets ! so you’ve brought them home at 
last, dear Ned,” said mamma. Her look repaid 
him for his hard toil, for in truth it had been 
no easy work for the impetuous boy to win the 
coveted marks of distinction. 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


83 


Little Effie made him bend down to show 
them to her, and then pronounced them a great 
deal brighter than those which Jem used to 
wear. But turning to James, she exclaimed, in 
a sorrowful tone, “It’s too bad they don’t give 
epaulets at college.” 

James did not seem to think it so great a 
deprivation, and when Effie saw how contented 
he was, she expressed her opinion in a very 
childlike way: “Well, I think it makes the 
ugly black coats pretty to have gold bands on 
them.” 

Dinner was soon ready, and when the bell 
rang, Ned caught Jeanie’s arm, exclaiming, 
“ Let us see what sort of an assistant-house- 
keeper you make ; if you hav’n’t a good dinner 
for me'. I’ll never recommend you as cook to 
my friend the Cham of Tartary. I’m as hun- 
gry as a — ^porcine quadruped !” 

“ An elegant way of saying an inelegant 
thing,” remarked James. “ You had better eat 
a book on etiquette by way of sauce to your 
intended grammar meal.” 

Ned looked back at his brother, and laugh- 
ingly asked, “ Do you intend that remark of 


84 


WHITSUNTIDE 


yours by way of sauce, or sass, as folks call it 
up here, at this present time?” 

‘‘ For once I’ll be as inelegant as yourself in 
my ideas,” said Jeanie, “and reply for Jem — 
certainly, as ‘ sauce piquante.’ ” 

“ French word number one, my education- 
completed sister. “I’ll watch how many more 
we shall be favored with before dinner is over. 
Oh, I’m so hungry !” 

“ But, Hed, it’s Fast day,” remarked Harry, 
as they sat down to the table. 

“Well, Fast day don’t mean that we should 
starve ourselves, or go without enough food — 
does it, father ?” 

“ Ho, my son ; but only to take such food as 
is necessary.” 

“ I thought that that ought to be our rule 
every day,” said Jeanie. “Do we not do wrong 
when we eat too much, or more than is neces 
sary ?” 

“ ‘ Too much,’ implies the sin of gluttony,” 
replied her father — “ ‘more than is necessary’ 
may mean another thing. For instance, it is not 
necessary that we should always have dessert; 
it is unnecessary for you to take a plate of jelly 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 35 

after your dinner, at the same time it is not 
wrong unless you have eaten too much already. 
The merit of keeping Fast day does not consist 
so much in what we eat or drink, but the spirit 
with which we lay aside luxuries. But, children, 
can any of you tell me why the Bogation days 
are appointed as Fasts?” 

Harry repeated what he had learned from his 
mother that afternoon. 

“ Bogation week was sometimes called ‘ Grass- 
week,’ ” said Mr. Buthven ; “ for the people fast- 
ed on salads, eggs, and green sauce. Did your 
mother explain the old custom of Procession- 
ing ?” 

“ Mr. Bivers explained it to us, papa,” answer- 
ed Jeanie ; “ I will tell you all I can remember.” 
With assistance from Effie and Harry, she man- 
aged to recall most of the Bector’s information. 

“There was another odd custom observed in 
the County of Bent during Bogation week,” con- 
tinued Mr. Buthven. “ Young men would meet 
together and run into orchards., making a most 
frightful noise, and, encircling each tree, they 
would pronounce the words 

# 


86 


WHITSUNTIDE 


‘ Stand fast, root ; bear well, top ; 

God send us youling sap. 

Every twig apple big. 

Every bough apple enow.' 

For this incantation they expected a payment 
in money, or they considered a drink equally 
welcome. I refer to this because it is supposed 
to be derived from the heathen custom of Pro- 
cessioning, when they supplicated Eolus, god- of 
the winds, for favorable blasts, so this ceremony 
retains his name with a slight variation. It is 
called ‘ youling.’ ” 

IS’ed, who had not distinguished himself by a 
remark for some moments, at length asked— 
“ Last year, papa, you told us that the early 
Christians kept the whole fifty days from Easter 
to Whitsuntide as a festival — what did they do 
with the Pogation days in that case ?” 

“ You remember,” answered his father, “ that 
even in festivals some fasts were kept, the week- 
ly one of Friday, for example. However, in the 
Spanish Church, where these fifty days were 
strictly observed as part of the Easter festival, 
the Eogation days were deferred by order of 
council, until Whitsuntide was over.” 

“How comfortaMe it is to have a father’s 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


87 


knowledge to depend npon,” exclaimed Ned. 
‘‘I’ve been trying to solve the question I just 
asked for ever so long.” 

“How long is ‘ever so long?’” asked bis 
mother. 

“Ever since Jem left Yalemont. You needn’t 
laugh at me, my wise sister,” he continued, for 
Jeanie was smiling, “ for I know a great deal 
more in regard to Whitsuntide than yourself. I 
became interested in learning about the festival 
from a story I read, so I determined to surprise 
you all by a display of knowledge in case father 
questions us. Besides, there’s nothing like step- 
ping in other peoples’ shoes.” 

“ ‘ Other peoples’ shoes !’ What do you mean ?” 
asked Jeanie. 

“Why, when Jem left Yalemont for Hartford, 
he accidentally left his old slippers. I appropri- 
ated them, thinking they jpight make me walk 
straight, and that perhaps* wisdom might be 
catching. The very first night I wore them, 
the idea of studying about Whitsuntide came 
into my head, so now whenever I read, I put on 
those slippers, and do wonders in the literary 
line.” 


4 


38 


WHITSUNTIDE 


‘‘ Just as full of your nonsense as ever,” whis- 
pered Aunt Effie, who sat next to him, and when 
the laughter caused by Ked’s remark had ceased, 
she asked aloud — ‘‘ If you read about Whitsun- 
tide, liow comes it that you omitted learning 
something of the preceding days ?” 

“I left them for somebody else — one festival 
was enough for me. I was afraid a surfeit of 
knowledge might injure my brain.” 

‘‘ I am very glad you did,” said J eanie, “ for 
I am au fait on the subject of Ascension 
Day.” 

“ French word number two !” exclaimed ]^ed. 
“ Why couldn’t you say, ‘ I’ve read up’ on the 
subject of Ascension Day.” 

“ Because dinner is nearly over,” replied 
Jeanie, laughing, “ and I didn’t want to disap- 
point you, for I knew you were watching for a 
French word. There’s an excuse in your own 
style !” 

‘‘Well, really!” said James, “‘Othello’s oc- 
cupation’s gone’ — ^you’ve left nothing for me.” 

“You can instruct us about Trinity Sunday,” 
-suggested Aunt Effie. 

‘“Then with his elegant language, and Latin 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


39 


quotations, lie’ll take the shine off of us in 
double quick time.” 

“ Pray, Ned, be more choice in your language,” 
said his father. “ I hope that in all your studies 
you have not forgotten the study of yourself. 
Your careless go-ahead character needs constant 
watchfulness.” 

Ned looked thoughtful for a moment, then 
replied in his own peculiar fashion — “ That’s a 
fact, father, and I fear my character will be- 
come like the pages of my French exercise book 
— one mass of corrections !” 

“Then those who copy from you, dear bro- 
ther, will be perfect,” whispered Jeanie as they 
left the table. 

“ Why, you dear old pet !” and Ned threw 
his arm around her waist — “ that’s the prettiest 
thing you’ve said in along time; there’s a kiss 
for you. Now let us all go out to the green- 
house ; come, Jen, run, see who of us will be 
there first.” 

Jeanie gathered up her long dress, and away 
brother and sister bounded across the lawn, 
through the western garden, over its high 
borders of box, until they reached the green- 


40 


WHITSUNTIDE 


house door, where Davys stood wondering what 
had hapj)ened to bring the young people in 
such haste to him, and trembling for his flow- 
er beds. 

‘‘ Oh my ‘ bonnie Jean,’ how you can run,” 
panted ITed who had used every effort before 
he could outrun his sister. 

“And, notwithstanding that you are a biped, 
you have beaten me by four feet!” exclaimed 
Jeanie, sinking down upon a garden chair. 

“ How do you account for a phenomenon so 
strange?” asked Jem, coming up. 

“ He was four feet ahead of me,” replied 
Jeanie. 

“ And counting these two feet, I was six feet 
ahead,” added Hed. 

“Settle it for yourselves,” said James, “while 
you are resting; in the meanwhile, Efiie and I 
will secure the largest bouquet.” 

Davys quite satisfied that nothing unusual 
had occurred, re-entered the green-house, and 
busied himself in bunching together the flow- 
ers which Effie had chosen. 

“ Did you ever try the ‘ spelling game ’ with 
flowers?” asked Jeanie. At first the others did 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


41 


not understand her, but she soon explained to 
them how it was done, and Effie and Harry 
selected* the flowers for the sentence which 
James proposed. When they were gathered, 
the children bid Davys good-night, and return- 
ed to the parlor where their parents and Aunt 
Efiie were sitting. James placed a little table 
before his mother, and laid the sentence flow- 
ers upon it. 

“How, mamma, spell out our sentence with 
the flowers,” said Effie, as she nestled close to 
her mother’s side. 

The assistance of Aunt Effie and Mr. Ruth- 
ven was required before the sentence could be 
discovered. And what do you think it was? 
Look at the table now that the flowers are ar- 
ranged. 

Wallflower and Everlasting — these spell WE. 

Lily of the Valley, Orange-flower, Violet, and 
Everlasting — LOVE. 

Myrtle, Oleander, Tuberose, Heliotrope, Eg- 
lantine and Rosebud— MOTHER. There lies 
the children’s sentence: 


4 -* 


Wit %tiht 


42 


WHITSUNTIDE 


There it lies, a love innocent and pure as the 
flowers themselves, olfered by young hearts as 
unacquainted with darkness and gloom, as are 
the flowers to the chilling blasts of winter. 

“ Why, there are great big tears in your eyes, 
mamma,” said Effie, looking up to her mother’s 
face — don’t you like the fun of guessing ?” 

“ They’ll not be there long, then !” exclaimed 
Ned, as he put his arms around his mother’s 
neck and kissed away those tears. 

Can any smile in the world be more bright, 
more beautiful, than a mother’s! Ah, my lit- 
tle ones, when you wish to know the answer 
Mrs. Ruthven made to her children, go to your 
own dear mother, steal softly up to her, and, 
putting your little hand in hers, whisper — Mo- 
ther, I love you.” Say it often, dear children 
— watch the gentle smile which beams from 
her face, you know not how soon the cold hand 
of Death may sweep away that smile. Look 
upon it now — love it while it is yet with you, 
so that the remembrance of its mild radiance 
may hallow your lives, until you also enter 
that land, where parting is unknown — Death 


never comes. 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


43 


CHAPTER III. 

“ The spouseless Adriatic mourns her lord ; 

And, annual marriage now no more renewed, 

The Bucentaur lies rotting unrestored. 

Neglected garment of her widowhood !” 

Byrox. 

Many years ago, in the neighboring villages 
of Exeter, England, there existed a popular be- 
lief that the figure of a lamb appeared in the 
east on Ascension morning. Doubtless those 
who could see the sun dancing at Easter, might 
also discover the lamb at Ascension. 

This superstition was beneficial to the young 
inmates of Cedar Grove, for it caused them to 
be up and dressed early the next morning. 
Jeanie and Harry were mounted upon a huge 
rock by the lake shore, and were looking to- 
wards the eastern mountains, over which the 
sun had not yet risen, when Effie’s voice asked, 
“ Can you see the lamb, Jeanie The little 


44 


WHITSUNTIDE 


girl had been wandering along the beach and 
through the grove, seeking early blue violets 
and pearly starred anemones. 

‘‘ISTot yet,” replied Jeanie. “Come up here, 
Euphie, sit with Harry while I go and find Jem 
and Hed.” 

“ I saw them in the boat-house a few mo- 
ments ago,” said Efiie, as she clambered up the 
rock. She was soon seated by Harry, who helped 
her to tie up the flowers in little bouquets. 

James and Hed had been over to the woods, 
and brought home a quantity of trailing ar- 
butus, which Jeanie attempted to seize the mo- 
ment she saw. “ Ho, my greedy sister,” said 
James, “ this is for mother and Aunt Effie.” 

“But I don’t want it for myself — I want to 
take it to Mr. Bivers, he likes it so much.” 

“Then he must come home from church with 
us,” said Hed, “and Jem and I will row you 
over to the woods, so you’ll have the trouble 
of searching for it yourselves!” 

“How selfish you are, Hed,” replied Jeanie, 
half pouting, yet smiling at the same time. 
“ You want us to have trouble because you 
have had it!” 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 45 

“ 0 well, my dear sister, if you don’t want 
Mr. Rivers to come home with us, here are the 
flowers ; I only thought rowing on the lake 
would be pleasant this afternoon.” 

“ So it will, Red ; I was in fun when I called 
you selfish ; I’ll tell mamma to ask Mr. Rivers. 
Rut look at Jem! Where are his thoughts? 
He’s floating ofi* without the oars! 

Jeanie spoke just in time. Jem, who had 
forgotten to moor his boat, was lying in the 
how looking at the water, while his oars were 
on the bank where he had thrown them. In 
another moment he would have been beyond 
reach of assistance, and swimming to land his ^ 
only resource. Fortunately he caught the oars 
as Red pitched them to him, and “with his 
wits about him,” as his brother said, he brought 
the boat to land. 

“Well, you ‘ancient mariner,’ did you think 
yourself in 

‘ a painted ship 
Upon a painted ocean’ — 


that you took so little care of yourself?” asked 
Red. 


46 


WHITSUNTIDE 


“ No ; but 1 was thinking of a wedding,” re- 
plied Jem. 

‘‘Wedding guest then — who's, I pray?” 

“Try and guess.” 

“Mr. Rivers? We were talking about him.” 

“Nonsense!” said Jeanie, quickly: “he isn’t 
going to be married.” 

Her brother looked surprised at the decided 
tone in which she had spoken, but James only 
said — “ Guess again.” 

“ I don’t know — one of Effie’s dolls, perhaps.” 

“ The marriage of the Adriatic is the only 
wedding I can think of to-day,” remarked 
Jeanie. 

“You have guessed if,” replied Jem. “As I 
sat here looking on the lake, I happened to think 
of Y enice, and wonder if I would ever go there ; 
then, as it is Ascension Day, the marriage of the 
sea came into my head.” 

“ Oh come — sit down and tell me all about it,” 
urged Ned. “I didn’t know it takes place to- 
day.” 

“Use the past tense — it doesn’t take place 
any more,” said his sister. 

“Never mind — tell me all about it.” 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 47 

“ Row out a little way on the lake,” said 
Jeanie, stepping into the boat. 

A few strokes of the oar, and “ Undine” was 
left to float over the still waters. 

“In the year 1173, Pope Alexander III. was 
so persecuted by Otho, son of Frederic Barba^ 
rossa, that he fled for safety to Venice, and, en- 
tering the monastery of St. Charitie, lived for a 
long time in secret and unknown. When the 
Venetians discovered who he was, they not only 
treated him with great respect, but placed their 
army and navy at his service. In a naval battle, 
Otho was taken prisoner, and presented by the 
Venetians as a vassal to the Pope, by Sebasti- 
anus Zianus, commander of the fleet. Alex- 
ander immediately took a ring ofl* his finger, and 
giving it to the commander, told him that as 
long as he kept that ring he should be lord and 
husband of the ocean, and that he and his pos- 
terity on the anniversary of the victory must 
espouse the sea. Therefore, in memory of this 
grant, th'e custom of throwing a ring was annu- 
ally observed. A splendid barge was built, call- 
ed the Bucentaur, in which” — 

“Stop one moment, Jeanie; do you know the 


48 


WHITSUNTIDE 


origin of the word Bucentanr?” As she did not, 
James continued — “It is thought to be a corrup- 
tion of ‘ Ducentorum,’ a ship of two hundred oars.” 

“ Thank' you — well, in this magnificent ship,^^^ 
the doge, attended by a thousand gondolas and 
barges, sailed to a place? in the Adriatic, called 
the Apostle gates, situated at the entrance of the 
gulf. The patriarch who accompanied him pour- 
ed holy ’Water into the sea, and then the doge 
dropped a ring of great value repeating these 
words — ‘We espouse thee, O sea, in token of real 
and perpetual dominion over thee.’ ” 

“Desponsamus te Mare, in signum veri per- 
petuique dominii !” repeated James. 

“Was the Bucentaur used only for the wed- 
ding?” asked Ned. 

James replied — “It was built for that cere- 
mony, but I think it was sometimes used on 
great state occasions, for we find it mentioned 
at the reception of the Duke of Anjou — Henry 
III. of France.” 

“Was he the ‘soldier of Navarre?’” asked 
Jeanie. 

“O no!” exclaimed Ned, with unusual spirit, 
“ he was a cruel old coward, but 




AT CEDAR GROVE. 49 

‘ Oh ! was there ever such a knight, in friendship or in war, 

As our sovereign lord, King Henry, the soldier of Navarre 1* 

was quite a different personage.” 

“Henry lY. was Henry of Havarre,” con- 
tinued James — “he married Margaret of Anjou, 
sister of Charles IX. and Henry HI.” 

“ Certainly, I remember it all now,” replied 
Jeanie. “ Catharine de Medicis wanted her son 
Henry HI. to marry Queen Elizabeth, and when 
he would not, she tried to get the crown of Eng- 
land for his younger brother, Alengon of Anjou. 
But, Hed, you ought not to call Henry HI. a 
coward, for if I remember rightly, he was the 
hero of Jarnac and Moncontour when only eight- 
een years of age.” 

“Well, perhaps he wasn’t a coward; yet, 
Jeanie, he was one of those who encouraged 
the massacre of St. Bartholomew ; he would 
have murdered Henry of Havarre, had it not 
been for an extra piece of kindness on the part 
of Catharine. His own brother, Charles, said he 
was full of Italian deceit. Xever mind him 
now — go on with the marriage of the Adriatic.” 

“ I have nothing more to tell about it,” re- 
plied Jeanie. 

5 


50 


WHITSUNTIDE 


“Pitch that oar here, Jem,” returned ]^ed. 
“If that sister of mine can’t give me any more 
mental food. I’ll go home and eat my break- 
fast.” 

Effie and Harry were still seated on their high 
look-out as the boat glided a short distance from 
them. They were too busy to notice it, how- 
ever, for their eyes were fixed upon the moun- 
tain top, over which the sunshine 'was streaming 
brighter and brighter. “There hasn’t been any 
‘ lamb’ this morning,” half sighed Effie, “ and 
now the light is too strong for ns ; well, perhaps 
we’ll see it next Ascension Day.” 

“ Let’s try and be as good as we can, Effie, 
for perhaps only good people see it,” replied 
Harry. 

“But why can’t naughty people see it, too?” 
asked Effie ; “ I didn’t think it really meant any 
thing.” 

“Why, you know a lamb is a type of our 
Saviour, and in memory of His Ascension from 
earth we keep this day; so I suppose old super- 
stitious people thought they could see His type, 
if they looked for it in the east.” 

“ I didn’t think so much about it before,” 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


51 


replied Effie ; it’s pretty to believe, only I 
don’t think it’s true.” 

The sun was far above the mountain now, so 
the children scrambled down from the rock, and 
raced after Jeanie and the boys, towards the 
house. 

The arbutus was much admired, and it look- 
ed very beautiful on the table in the little 
Parian vase where Jeanie put it. “ Who is 
our authority for Ascension Day?” asked Mr. 
Kuthven as the children took their seats at the 
table. 

“Jeanie,” replied ISTed. “She began her in- 
formation this morning, and told me all about 
the wedding of Miss Yenice to Mr. Adriatic ; 
but she forgot to tell how the bride was dressed.” 

Go and search in ‘ Hey wood’s Hierarchic 
of Angels,’ or the Enclyopedia, or — ” 

“ There, my dear sister, subside — that first big 
word is enough ; 'I’ll graciously suppose any 
amount of Venetian splendor.” So saying, Hed 
devoted himself to the muffins. 

“Well, my son, since you’re quiet,” said Mr. 
Kuthven, “ I’ll ask the question I intended ask- 
ing a few moments ago. Jeanie, can you tell 


52 


WHITSUNTIDE 


me whether Ascension Day has ever been call- 
ed by any other name?” 

“It was called Holy Thursday in the time of 
Alfred the Great.” ' 

“ Can it come on any day but Thursday ?” 

“ Ho, papa ; because the Bible tells us that 
Christ remained upon earth forty days after His 
resurrection, so the Church has placed it forty 
days after Easter, to be held on the Thursday 
next but one preceding Whit-Sunday. Some 
writers tell us that it was observed in the year 
68, and St. Augustine speaks of it as instituted 
by the Apostles, or by some early Council.” 

“This evening we will hear more about it,” 
said her father, “ we must get through break- 
fast now, for Church goes in at ten o’clock, and 
some of us will have to walk.” 

“ It is a glorious morning for walking,” ob- 
served James; “will you come, with Jeanie and 
me. Aunt Effie?” 

Mrs. Howard assented, and in a short time 
they set out. The spring breeze, laden with 
the perfume of apple -blossoms floated with sun- 
shine through the Copake valley. Yiolets peep- 
ed from their hiding-places by the corners of 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 53 

fences, and from beneath the large stones which 
lay along the roadside ; dandelions looked up 
with their mimic stare of defiance, while the 
daisy, with its white fringed centre of gold, 
swayed on its slender stem as if trying to 
kneel beneath the dome of “ God’s great temple 
here.” 

Jeanie gathered the brightest of the fiowers 
which surrounded the path, and when her own 
hands could hold no more, she begged Aunt 
Effie to help her carry them. 

“Why, Jen, what will you do with so many 
flowers?” asked James. 

“ Since you’ve asked me, Jem, I will tell 
you ; but neither Aunt Effie nor yourself must 
repeat it. A few days ago I took a walk 
through the church-yard? — ^you know there are 
a great many old tomb-stones there — well, on 
one of them there is this inscription, — the name 
has been effaced — 


‘AGED 17. 

ASCENSION DAY, 1757, 

CETRIST JESUS CAME INTO THE WORLD TO SAVE 
SINNERS.’ 


5 * 


54 


WHITSUNTIDE 


The grave is so covered with briars and 
weeds, that I am sure there is no one to take 
care of it, and I thought as the age is the same 
as mine, I would try and make the little 
mound look as if friends were near — so I’m 
going to lay these flowers upon it to-day.” 

“Doesn’t the parish record tell who is buried 
there?” asked her brother. 

“ Ko ; Mr. Rivers has looked, but at that time 
there was no settled rector here, so it must 
have been omitted through carelessness on the 
part of those who had charge of the records.” 

“ May we not hope,” said Aunt Efiie, “ that 
although the name has been effaced here on 
earth, it is written in our Saviour’s Book of Life ! 
And, Jeanie, as all of our good acts are re- 
membered in Heaven, even this little thought- 
fulness of yours will not be forgotten. Christ 
remembers all of His . children, and those who 
honor them, honor Him. We will doubtless 
hear the name of this young stranger, if we 
are ever worthy to enter the Home our Saviour 
this day entered to prepare for us.” 

“ If we in heart and mind thither ascend,” 
repeated Jeanie. “ Oh, Aunt Effie, how strange 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


55 


it seems that Christ has really ascended with 
our human nature to Heaven !” 

“ On such a day as this, we can imagine 
how glorious His Ascension must have been. 
We can picture to ourselves how Christ, after 
charging His disciples not to leave Jerusalem 
until they had received the promised Com- 
forter, led them out of the city to the Mount 
of Olives nearest to Bethany. Here He told 
them to go forth and baptize in His Name ; 
they as His witnesses were to bear the story 
of His life to the uttermost parts of the earth. 
Then He gave them His blessing, and as the 
last words of that blessing died away, a cloud 
received Him out of their sight.” 

“ I once read an old story of a soldier pil- 
grim,” said James, “ who journeyed through 
the Holy Land, as nearly as he could in the 
footsteps of our Saviour ; and when he came 
to the Mount of Olives, when he stood by 
that spot where our Saviour’s feet last pressed 
the earth, he knelt and prayed — ‘Behold, Lord, 
I have sought thee diligently everywhere, and 
now that I am come to the place where Thou 
didst ascend into Heaven, where can I seek 


56 


WHITSUNTIDE 


Thee more ? Let my spirit depart and come 
to Thee, that I may see Thee sitting in glory 
at the right hand of the Lather.’ And while 
he was still speaking, God heard his prayer 
and called him home.” 

“ Yes, it is a very beautiful story, and 
teaches us a beautiful lesson.” 

“ What authority have we, for the very old 
tradition, that Christ left the print of His 
feet upon the Mount of Olives V inquired 
Jeanie. 

“ St. Jerome says they were visible in his 
time,” replied her aunt ; and we know that 
he lived in the fourth century, but it is 
probable that a natural indentation was mis- 
taken for the mark of a human foot.” 

When they reached the church-yard, Jeanie 
found that she had time enough to go to the 
unknown grave. James went with her, and 
by his help the tangled brambles were soon 
cut away, and flowers scattered over the ne- 
glected mound. “ One hundred years of Pa- 
radise ! Oh, Jamie, what a strangely beau- 
tiful thought,” whispered Jeanie, as they turned 
from the grave. “ One hundred years ago, to- 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


57 


day, that young being entered the Church Tri- 
umphant.” 

The bell had ceased tolling as they entered, 
and the organ .was filling the church with a 
solemn, mysterious strain, but it changed to a 
joyous burst of melody as the white-robed 
priest entered the chancel, and as he knelt 
in silent prayer, it 'melted again into a trem- 
bling minor. 

Ascension Day is one of the six holy days 
for which special Psalms are appointed, and 
the Psalms themselves are direct prophesies of 
the Ascension. In the morning we are re- 
minded how our Saviour ascended the holy 
hill, the highest Heaven, of which Mount Sion 
was a type, while the last Psalm foretells that 
He put all His enemies to fiight, and was ex- 
alted in His own strength to everlasting honor, 
and had a crown of pure gold set upon His 
head. The first evening Psalm is that which 
David composed when the Ark was placed in 
the house which he had prepared for it, in 
Mount Sion. Christ is our Ark, heaven is our 
Sion, and, as Christ has entered there, we still 
chant as did the Jews of old, “Lift up your 


58 


WHITSUNTIDE 


heads, O ye gates ; and be ye lift up, ye 
everlasting doors ; and the King of Glory shall 
come in.” 

St. Chrysostom, in alluding to this festival, 
beautifully observes. On this day we, who 
had been shown to be unworthy of earth, 
were raised to the hope of heaven ; we, who 
were not fit to receive dominion even on earth 
below, were exalted to the kingdom which is 
above ; and our nature, kept out by cherubim 
from an earthly paradise, may now sit above 
the cherubim on high.” 

Such was the sum of Mr. Eivers’s explana- 
tion of the services of the day. He told them 
also how the Church, from the earliest ages 
of Christianity, had set apart this day in 
thankful acknowledgment to God for His ac- 
ceptance of our Saviour’s sacrifice. Even here, 
on earth, we look upon the right hand as the 
place of honor and respect ; and it was to 
God’s right hand of power and glory that 
Christ was exalted. "With the same body in 
which He walked here on earth, He now in- 
tercedes beside His Father’s throne for us. 
When the black cloud of our sins seem to 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


59 


shut out the light of our Father’s countenance, 
let but our cry for mercy reach our Saviour’s 
ear, and He will stretch forth His nail-pierced 
hands between God’s judgment and our de- 
servings. AVhen temptations lead us astray — 
when God’s wrath is kindling against us — our 
Elder Brother points to His Bloody Sweat, 
and again utters that agonizing cry, “ If it be 
possible, let this cup pass from me.” When 
death, the punishment of our sins, would shut 
us out from the Kingdom, of God, Ilis cry 
of triumph cheers the parting soul, “ O Death, 
I will be thy plague ; O Grave, I will be 
thy destruction !” Christ has ascended into 
Heaven, thither may our hearts and minds 
ascend, and with Him may we continually 
dwell. 

The morning service was ended, and the con- 
gregation had left the church. A few groups 
still lingered in the church-yard, some bending 
over the graves of their children, while others 
sought the grassy mounds, beneath which their 
parents were sleeping. The grave had no terrors 
for them, for Christ had overcome death by His 
glorious Ascension. 


60 


WHITSUNTIDE 


“How thankful we ought to be,” whispered 
Mrs. Kuthven to her husband, “ that God has 
not taken our children from us.” 

“ And that He has not made us orphans,” 
thought Jeanie, as she overheard her mother’s 
remark while following to the carriage. 

Mr. Kuthven determined to walk home with 
the boys, and Mr. Hi vers promised to join them. 
Tim, who had taken Effie and Harry on the 
front seat with him, was quite shocked that the 
Hector should walk when there was a vacant 
seat. “Hehber mind,” said the old man, “he’s 
a young gem’man — bime-by he get old, like 
Tim, then he’ll be for usin’ bosses’ legs ’stead 
his own.” 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


61 


4 


CHAPTER IV. 


Now each ethereal gate, 

To Him hath opened been, 

And glory’s King, in state, 

His palace enters in : 

Now come is this High Priest 
To the most holy place. 

Not without blood addressed. 

With glory heaven, the earth to crown 

with grace.” William Drummond. 


"Rowing across the lake was pleasant enough, 
but the search for trailing arbutus proved slow 
work. Apart from the lateness of the season, 
JSled had turned- over the dried leaves so tho- 
roughly, in the morning, that Jeanie was obliged 
to strike otf in a new direction. Effie and Harry 
were more successful ; they seemed to go at 
once to the right spot, for at the end of an 
hour their bunches were larger than the rest 
of the party’s put together. James had strolled 

otf into the woods with Aunt Effie. 

6 


62 


WHITSUN-TIDE 


“ I wonder why they’ve gone so far said 
Effie, when they did not reply to Ked’s call. 

“Jem’s gone to look for ideas — or acorns; he 
wants to frame them.” 

“ Which — the ideas or the acorns ?” asked 
Jeanie, quickly. 

“ The acorns, to be sure,” replied Ned, laugh- 
ing ; “ but if he finds ideas, he will frame them, 
too. It’s just the way he used to do at school, 
when he had to write a composition ; poking 
right off to the woods, and when he came home, 
wouldn’t he write though! I’ll call him once 
more.” And then Ned gave a whoop, so loud 
and long that Effie and Harry stopped their 
ears, declaring he would deafen them with his 
noise. 

He ceased ; but immediately from the hill- 
top came another, so shrill and piercing that 
Ned jumped up and down, and declared it was 
“ overpoweringly startling to his weak nerves.” 
Nearer and nearer came the yell ; they heard 
the crackling of boughs, and the rustling of 
dried leaves. In another moment the branches 
of a small pine tree parted, and a dark, swarthy 
face peered out upon them. Ned, who only 


AT CEDAK GKOVE. 


63 


caught a glimpse of the face, stood, as if hes- 
itating for a moment what to do, but Harry 
dashed forward, and was actually upon the other 
side of the tree before Hed had decided how 
to act. 

*• He ! he ! Master Harry, bravest of ’em all,” 
laughed old Tim, as he made his appearance 
with Harry mounted on his shoulder ; “ old Tim 
tried to frighten Master Hed — guess he did, 
too.” 

“ Oh Tim, was it you ?” exclaimed Jeanie ; 
‘‘I did not see the whole of your face, and, 
not expecting you here, did not recognize you.” 

Mrs. Howard and James now joined them. 
He soon explained how Tim and Davys had 
come over to help him find some azalia, which 
was just beginning to bloom. They were coming 
down the hill when they heard Hed’s call. Tim, 
who knew how to give the real Indian war- 
whoop, answered it ; then he and Davys had 
run down, making all the noise they could with 
their feet and hands, on purpose “ to give Mas- 
ter Hed a grand ‘ scare.’ ” 

“I let Mr. Kivers see me, tho’, afore I put 
my head thro’ ’e tree,” said Tim, in a consider- 


64 


WHITSUNTIDE 


ate tone of voice ; “ old Tim wouldn’t like to 
scare a gem’man ; no, no.” 

“I could easily have been deceived by your 
yell, Tim,” said Mr. Rivers ; “ and if there were 
any wild Indians in this part of the country, I 
should have thought them rushing upon us.” 

“ Tim’s gran’ma was a Stockbridge Injin : 
Tim’s got some Injin blood in him, any how.” 
Insensibly the old man drew himself up to his 
full height, and glanced proudly around. He 
was evidently as proud of his descent, as many 
whose veins are filled with more noted, but 
more ignoble blood. 

Davys now made his appearance with a large 
bunch of rose-colored azalia, and James took 
upon himself the task of dividing it into equal 
shares. The rest of the day was spent in wan- 
dering through the woods, until time for evening 
service came, and then they gathered together 
their fiowers, and rowed home, over the lake, 
where they found Mr. and Mrs. Ruthven wait- 
ing for them in the wagon on the lake shore. 

They had a merry time crowding into the 
wagon, which was made to hold six, but this 
afternoon nine were to be stowed into it. Effie 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


65 


and Ned took the front seat beside their father, 
who acted as coachman. “ Plenty of room, 
Jem!” shouted Ned, as he turned and saw his 
brother trying to find a place between Jeanie 
and Aunt Effie. “ Take Jeanie in your arms, 
and if she proves rather heavy, just comfort 
youi'self with the reflection that you can walk 
home.” 

“ No, no,” replied Jeanie ; “ Tim has put the 
saddle on Kipton — Jem can be outrider.” 

‘‘You shall ride home,” said James, when he 
saw the longing look which Ned cast towards 
the horse ; “or, if you wish, you may have 
him now.” 

Ned preferred driving, so he kept his place 
by his father. 

One of the pleasantest sights in the lovely 
village of Woodneath, is its church during even- 
ing service. All those who can be spared from 
their homes are within its sacred walls. They 
do not lose time on week days, by stopping to 
dress in their best clothes; when the bell rings, 
they hasten just as they are, to kneel together 
in God’s house, to join in one common prayer. 
Side by side is the wealthy farmer and his poor 
6 * 


66 


WHITSUNTIDE 


laboring man ; side bj side sits the poor sewing- 
girl with her wealthy mistress : no well-cushioned 
pews, with their doors, divide the rich from the 
poor, for in God’s house, as in God’s sight, they 
are all equal. 

Service lasted but a short time. Mr. Eivers 
read the evening prayer, and part of one of 
the homilies prepared for Ascension Day. When 
Church was out, Effie walked home with Jeanie 
and her father. She did not race over the fields, 
as usual, but kept hold on her father’s hand. 
“Will next Sunday be Whit-Sunday, Effie?” he 
asked, wishing to see if she remembered what 
Jeanie had told them in the morning. 

“ Why no, papa,” she replied, “ it will be 
the Sunday after Ascension Day * but the next 
Sunday after will be Whit-Sunday.” 

“ ISTow, can you tell me by what name next 
Sunday, and the week after it, is sometimes 
called?” 

Effie shook her head, but Jeanie answered, 
“ Expectation Sunday, and the same name is 
given to the week, for it was the time the Apos- 
tles prayed together in expectation of the Com- 
forter which Christ promised to them.” 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


67 


“Yes; you know the Bible tells us that after 
Christ had ascended, they returned to Jerusalem, 
where they continued ‘in prayer and supplica- 
tion.’ Did you tell me all you had found about 
Ascension Day, this morning, dear Jeanie?” 

“ I think I did, papa. Although I read a 
great deal, and gathered many beautiful thoughts 
upon the festival, I did not find much that I 
can repeat. I learned, however, that the Church 
has not only appointed special psalms and lessons, 
but in the Communion office there is a special 
preface for this day.” 

“What is a ‘preface,’ papa?” asked Effie. 

“ It is a short prayer which is oflTered just 
before the trisagion — ‘ Therefore with angels 
and archangels.’ ” 

“ Oh, yes ! I remember it now ; Mr. E-ivers 
said it this morning ; but sometimes there isn’t 
any Preface, is there, papa?” 

“For the ordinary communion there is none, 
but you will find them appointed for Christmas, 
Easter, Ascension, and the seven days after. 
There is one for Whit-Sunday and six days after, 
because Trinity Sunday is the seventh day after 
Whit-Sunday, its octave, and there is a special 


68 


WHITSUNTIDE 


preface appointed for that day. AYhile I think 
of it, Jeanie,” he continued, turning to her, 
“ can you tell me any thing about the Collect 
for the Sunday after Ascension.” 

‘‘Was it not the one which the venerable Bede 
repeated as he was dying?” 

“ The collect which he repeated was the one 
the Church used before the Eeformation. In 
the year 1549, a new one was composed, or, 
rather, the present ending was added to the old, 
beginning with the words, ‘Exalt us unto the 
same place whither our Saviour Christ is gone 
before’ — and this was the fact to which I wished 
to call your attention. The collect for Ascen- 
sion Day itself is the same which the Church 
has always used.” 

“ By-the-by, papa, it is not exactly apropos to 
our conversation, but I heard you say, when 
talking to Mr. Bivers the other day, that the 
Lord’s Prayer, of which I had always thought 
our Saviour himself was the author, was taken 
from the Jewish Bitual.” 

“ Then you did not quite understand me. 
Our Saviour did comjpose it; that is. He select- 
ed passages from the Jewish Bitual, and made 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


69 


a prayer from them ; but every word of it was 
taken from Jewish forms of worship that were 
used long before our Blessed Lord’s Advent. 
But to go back to our subject, you know that 
we have often seen that the Jewish Church 
was a type of our own. At Easter, I explain- 
ed how their Passover prefigured Christ our 
Passover; and now, Jeanie, can you tell me of 
any ceremony which typifies our Ascension 
Day?” 

After thinking for a few moments, she re- 
plied: “The day of Atonement, when the high- 
priest entered the Holy of Holies.” 

“ Yes ; but do you know any thing about this 
Day of Expiation as it is sometimes called ; at 
what time was it kept?” 

“ On the tenth day of the month Tisri, 
which answers to our September or October. 
It was the first month of the Jews’ civil year, 
but the seventh of their sacred year.” 

“The Jews said that Satan had no power to 
do any harm to their nation at this time,” con- 
tinued Mr. Kuthven, “ and there are many 
other traditions concerning it. On this day 
Adam repented, and was reconciled to God ; 


70 


WHITSUNTIDE 


Moses came down from the mount, for the last 
time, with the second tables, upon which God 
had written His commandments. On this last 
tradition Mahomet founded his annual fast in 
the month Hamadan, when, as he said, the 
Horan was sent down from Heaven. Hot 
much dependence, however, can be placed 
upon these traditions. But, Jeanie, was the 
day of atonement kept as a feast, or a fast?” 

“As a fast. It was kept from the evening 
of the ninth to the evening of the tenth day. 
It was an atonement for the sins of the whole 
nation, which they had committed during the 
previous year.” 

“The sacrifice which more particularly typi- 
fies our Saviour’s atonement was that of the 
two goats, which the congregation brought to 
the high-priest. He, placing them before 
the tabernacle, in the sight of the people, drew 
lots, to see which one would be the scape-goat, 
and which the sacrifice. Jewish rabbies af- 
firm that the lots were drawn in the following 
manner: An urn was brought, into which the 
high-priest threw two wooden votes, on one 
of these was written, ‘ For the Lord on the 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


71 


Other, ‘Azazel,’ the word which we translate 
‘ scape-goat,’ and after shaking them up, he 
drew them forth, one in each hand. As the 
goats stood by his side, their fate was decided 
by the lot that came up in the hand next to 
them. If the right held ‘ For the Lord,’ it 
w^as considered a good omen, and we are told 
that during the priesthood of Simeon the just, 
he always drew forth the Lord’s in his right 
hand. 

“ Having offered the sacrifice, the high- 
priest entered the Holy of Holies, where, after 
burning incense, he sprinkled the blood before 
the mercy-seat. As blood was the life of the 
animal, it typified to the people that life went 
to redeem life. When he came again before 
the congregation, he laid his hand upon the 
head of the scape-goat, and confessed the sins 
of the people, transferring them, as it were, to 
the animal which was then led away to the 
wilderness.” 

“ How strange it is, father, that the Jews 
cannot see that their whole* temple service was, 
as you say, a type of ours. I thought of it 
this afternoon, when Mr. Eivers, after the ser^ 


72 


WHITSUNTIDE 


mon, said that prayer which is used on Good 
Friday for all Jews, Turks, infidels and here- 
tics. It seemed almost as appropriate for this 
day, when our real High-Priest entered into 
the real Holy of Holies, as for that solemn 
one, on which He offered the real atonement.” 

“ The whole temple service on their day of 
atonement, seems wonderfully prefigurative of 
Christ,” continued Mr. Puthven. “ In the first 
place, their high-priest laid aside his golden 
woven vestments, just as Christ laid aside His 
glory, ‘which He had with the Father, before 
the world was.’ Two goats you know, were 
brought, one typified the divine, the other, 
the human nature of Christ. The goat there- 
fore which was slain, prefigured His human na- 
ture, and its death; while the goat that lived, 
pointed out His resurrection. The priest laid 
his hand on the head of the scape-goat, and 
confessed the sins of the people ; so Christ was 
made sin for us ; you remember that St. Paul, 
as if he had this figure in his mind, tells us 
that ‘ the Lord laid on Him the iniquity of 
us all.’ 

“ Then again, when the sacrifice was accom- 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


73 


plished, the high-priest, with the blood of the 
victims, went into the Holy of Holies to sprin- 
kle it before the mercy-seat. He sprinkled 
it eastward^ for the mercy-seat stood at the 
east. In the east Christ was born, and there, 
Christ in His human form, the print of the 
nails still visible in His hands and feet, as- 
cended into heaven, the Holy of Holies, 
where the throne of God was the mercy seat, 
before which He showed His wounds for our 
transgressions. Ho longer was needed the 
blood of goats and calves ; no longer was the 
high-priest to enter the Holy of Holies, for 
Christ, both priest and sacrifice, has presented 
an offering for the sins of the whole world ! 
The high-priest only, of the Jews, went into 
the Holy of Holies ; no other ever entered 
there. Christ, the High Priest, both of the 
Jews and Gentiles, has entered Heaven, and 
there He ever liveth to make intercession for 
us.” 

As Mr. Ruthven ceased speaking, he glanced, 
at the young faces beside him. Both were 
looking upward, as if to their sight the glory 
of heaven itself had been revealed. Gazing 
7 


74 


WHITSUNTIDE 


upwards, as did those men of Galilee, while 
gorgeous clouds, tinged with a parting gleam 
of heavenly glory gathered over Mount Olivet, 
and wrapt from their sight earth’s last High- 
Friest, even Christ our God. 

Jeanie was the first to turn her face earth- 
ward, then silently followed her father down 
the little knoll where, for a moment, they had 
been standing. ]^ot so Effie ; still looking up- 
wards, there the little one stood, her bonnet 
thrown back, while a golden ray from the 
setting sun, glancing through her soft hair, 
seemed to fiing a halo around her lovely face. 
Her hands, filled with harebells and daisies, 
were clasped as when repeating her childish 
prayers — ^lier little feet scarcely seemed to press 
the ground, so slightly bending beneath them 
were the meadow fiowers. 

James, who had driven the carriage home, 
walked back over the fields to meet his fa- 
ther and sisters. “ Where’s Euphie ?” was his 
first question, as he met Jeanie coming to- 
wards him, alone. But the next moment he 
caught sight of the knoll where his little sis- 
ter was standing. “ Oh, father !” he exclaimed, 


AT CEDAR GROVj:. 


75 


“ how like an angel she is ! I’m almost afraid 
she’ll fly away.” 

There was no danger of that ; wherever the 
dear child’s thoughts had been wandering, 
they came back again the moment Jamie’s 
voice fell upon her ear. “ Catch me, Jamie,” 
she called out. “ O, I’m so glad you’ve come 
to meet us !” 

The breeze, waving by, caught up her sil- 
very laugh, and patter, patter tripped her little 
feet down the daisy-dotted hill-side, till, with 
a bound, she sprang into Jem’s outstretched 
arms, and clasped her own tightly around his 
neck. 

Pressing her closely to him, he started and 
ran some distance over the meadow, but Effie 
soon begged to be put on her own feet, for 
she was afraid her brother was tired carrying 
her. His only reply was to lift her on his 
shoulder, and walk back towards their father 
and Jeanie. “You have been a long time 
walking home,” he said, as he joined them. 
“I think father must have been tehing you 
stories.” 

“ Hot stories,” replied Jeanie ; “ but he has 


76 


, WHITSUNTIDE 


been telling ns about the Jewish ceremonies 
on the day of atonement.” 

“ Ah ! that reminds me of something I 
wished to talk to you about, father”- James 
placed Efiie on the ground and took her little 
hand in his. “While reading some customs 
of the Egyptians, the other day, I found that 
they had a ceremony very like that of the 
Jewish atonement. Once a year they sacri- 
ficed a white bull to their god, Apis. They 
cut off the head of the animal, to which their 
priests confessed the sins of the people, and 
then they cast it into the ITile, or sold it to 
the Greeks. 

“ Also, among the ancient Greeks, I find 
that it was customary to kill a man, every 
year, for the safety of the people. After pro- 
nouncing over him the words, ‘ Be thou the 
purifier,’ they threw him into the sea, as a sac- 
rifice to Neptune.” 

“ Do you remember any incident in the 
^neid, where Yirgil probably alluded to this 
custom ?” asked Mr. Buthven. 

“In the storm which scatters the Trojan fieet 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


Y7 

before they land in Italy,” replied James, 
“ the pilate, Palinurus, falls into the sea, and 

* Unum pro multis, dabitur caput 
‘ One life is given for the preservation of many.’ 


This is the only incident I remember, father.” 

It is the one to which I referred — ” 

“ But, papa,” broke in Effie, ‘‘ wasn’t it very 
awful to take life in that way ?” 

“To be sure it was, my dear,” replied her 
father ; “ but it serves to show us how strongly 
they felt the necessity of offering a sacrifice for 
their sins. In ancient times, when the City of 
Marseilles was afflicted with any plague or pesti- 
lence, the inhabitants made it a custom to take 
one of the poorer citizens, who offered himself 
for that purpose, and after feeding and clothing 
him for a year, they would lead him around 
the city ; then, having prayed that all the evil 
to which the city was exposed might fall upon 
him, they threw him from a high rock, an offer- 
ing, as it were, for their sins. 

“The Hindoos also recognized the importance 
of a sin-offering of blood. Every year a horse, 
after being led through the wilderness, was sacri- 
1 * 


78 


WHITS QNTIDE 


ticed — and I could easily show you that every 
nation have, in some rude way, typified the one 
great atonement which Christ our Saviour has 
made for the sins of the whole world.” 

“ Then, papa, why don’t every body go to 
Church on Ascension Day, when they know how 
much they ought to thank God for a sacrifice 
so wonderful as that which Jesus made for us.” 

“ Ah ! my dear little one, those who neglect 
the festivals and fasts which our holy Church 
has appointed, must answer that question for 
themselves. Our church door is open to them 
all : we can urge them to enter, but we must 
set them the example, Efiie.” 

“ I mean to try to do so, papa, for you know” 
— and she commenced singing a ballad which 
the children often sang on Sunday evenings — 

‘ I love the Church — the holy Church, 

■ ' The Saviour’s spotless bride ; 

And oh, I love her palaces 
Through all the land so wide ! 

The cross-topped spire amid the trees, 

The holy bell of prayer; 

• The music of our Mother’s voice. 

Our Mother’s home is there.’ ” 

As sh^ ceased, Jeanie, who was leaning on 
her brother’s arm, continued : 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


79 


“ ‘ I love the Church — the holy Church, 

That o’er our life presides ; 

The birth, the bridal, and the grave. 

And many an hour besides ! 

Be mine, through life, to live in her, 

And, when the Lord shall call. 

To die in her — the spouse of Christ — 

The Mother of us all.’ ” 

Hand in hand, the happy sisters and brother 
hastened homeward, for the sun had gone down, 
and the dew was falling fast. 

As they reached the lodge-gate, they met ISTed 
rushing towards them with two heavy shawls. 
“ Oh, father !” he exclaimed ; “ I believe if you 
were my brother, mother would give you a real 
hard scolding, for keeping EflBe and Jeanie out 
so long ! Come, Jem, wrap them up quick, 
or they’ll have coughs, colds, croup, and — oh, 
I’m out of breath !” 

Tossing the shawls into Jem’s hand, he leaned 
against a large maple tree which shaded the 
lodge ; but he seemed to regain his breath as 
rapidly as it had gone, for he went on — “ Oh, 
the pony cut up like mad with me, coming home, 
but he didn’t pitch me off ; and after I took him 
in the stable, Harry and I hunted for the eggs, 


80 


WHITSUNTIDE 


and Biddy gave us some to hang up in the 
garret !” 

“ Why, ISTed !” — Effie’s eyes were wide open 
with surprise — what’s the use of eggs in the 
garret ?” 

“ I’m sure I don’t know,” replied her brother, 
laughing ; ‘‘ but when we brought the eggs to 
Biddy, she said that in Ireland they used to 
hang some of the eggs laid on Ascension Day 
in the roof of the house to preserve it from 
harm. And, father, she told us how they used 
to take a piece of rope, on Ascension Day, and 
make a cross on a cheese with it ; then, whenever 
a great tempest came on, they wmuld run out 
of doors and take a piece of cheese to bless 
themselves with.” 

When the laughter which Hed’s recital of Bid- 
dy’s superstitions occasioned had subsided, Mr. 
Buthven told them that this singular custom 
was not peculiar to Ireland. 

“ I guess it was because they loved cheese,” 
said Effie. 

“But the eggs in the garret — I should think 
the rats would get them,” remarked Jeanie. 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


81 


“ Biddy told me the rats were all down in 
the cellar,” interposed Effie. 

“ Even if they are,” continued her sister, 

“ don’t you know the rats could go up and ' 
get them, and take them down stairs again ?” 

The little girl opened her eyes wider than 
ever. “ Bats bring eggs down from a gar- 
ret !” she exclaimed. ' - 

“ To be sure,” answered James. Can you 
guess how they manage it?” 

“ JS’o,” replied both Effie and B’ed. 

‘‘ One rat lies down on his back, and holds 
the egg in his four paws, or feet ; then the 
other rats take hold of his tail, and pull him 
down stairs.” 

“ Oh, Jamie ! is that true ?” Effie laughed 
at the idea. 

“ I’ve never seen it done,” answered James. 

“ The rats may think their notion a good 
one,” said l^ed, “ but I’m sure they’d find it 
easier to pull the egg-carrier down stairs by 
his head ; it would keep his fur smooth.” 

“ What a remarkable amount of thoughtful- 
ness for you, Ned,” said Jeanie, joining in the 
laughter. “ I’m sure a race to the front door 


82 


WHITSUNTIDE 


would be good for you, after such unusual 
mental exertion.” 

Away he darted; even James and Jeanie 
followed. But Effie was the first to reach her 
mother’s side, which proved to be the goal 
for which they were all pressing forward, and 
not the “ front door,” as Jeanie had proposed. 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


83 


CHAPTER V. 

“ Come, .... kinsman, this is the way ; 

Sir boy, now let me see your archery ; 

Look ye draw home enough, and ’tis there straight.” 

Titus Andronicus, act iv. scene iii. 

Days passed away — quietly enough, it would 

seem, to a casual observer — but they were 
days of great happiness to the brothers and 
sisters, once again assembled in the old stone 
house. 

IN’ed, notwithstanding the amount of reading 
upon Whitsuntide, which he said he had gone 
through at school, found that his father had 
some books on the subject which he had not 

seen. Determined to gather all the information 
he could, he set to work in good earnest, and 
for two or three hours every day shut himself 
in his own room. Such exemplary conduct 
on the part of Master Ned occasioned consider- 


84 


WHITSUNTIDE 


able surprise to his brother and sisters. They 
could not imagine what he was doing, for he 
preserved a mysterious silence whenever they 
knocked at his door, during his hours of re- 
tirement. 

On the Wednesday following Ascension Day, 
when they were all at lunch, Mr. Duthven 
asked, “ Where have you been for the last 
few mornings, E^ed? You must have been in 
retirement, for the house has been unusually 
quiet.” 

They waited in almost breathless expectation 
for his answer, nor was their surprise abated, 
when he replied : Pitching into books, papa ; 
studying as hard as I can. Believe me or not, 
as you choose,” he added, seeing the incredu- 
lous expression of their faces, “ but I shall 
know more than Jem about Whitsuntide, and 
when father questions us, he will not be able 
to tell a single thing that I do not know as 
well! There, now Pve told you why I’ve quit- 
ted your delectable society.” 

“ After all your study, I believe Jem will 
manage to know something that you do not,” 
remarked Jeanie. 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


85 


‘‘ Only let him try,” returned Ned, with a 
confident air. 

‘‘ Let me give you one piece of advice, my 
son,” said his father ; “ remember to use mod- 
eration in every thing ; do not, as you say, ‘ pitch 
into’ a subject so desperately for a few days, 
and then as quickly throw it aside.” 

Ned promised to try and follow his father’s 
advice, but he complained that using moderation 
was dull work. 

“ ‘ Fits and starts’ seems to be your maxim,” 
said his brother. 

“ ‘ Slow and sure’ is yours, I suppose, Jamie,” 
replied Jeanie. 

‘‘‘Be aisy wid ye,’ as Biddy says,” interposed 
Ned. “Now, just watch me for the next two 
days. Saturday I don’t promise to study.” 

Ned kept his resolution, and on Thursday and 
Friday he talked of nothing but the number 
of pages he had read, and the “quantity of in- 
formation” he had gained. These words sounded 
(j ueerly coming from him. 

“Are you going to repeat it all to us?” asked 
Efiie, at the dinner-table, on Friday. “It will 
take us every evening next week to listen to you.” 

8 


86 


WHITSUNTIDE 


Her brother could not help smiling at the 
martyr-like tone of her voice ; but his father, 
fearing that Elbe’s remark might discourage 
Hed, replied : I think your brother can man- 
age to make the subject interesting for one even- 
ing, at least ; and if he does not, Effie, we will 
turn him out of the chair, and” — 

“ Make you take his place, papa,” interrupted 
Effie, quickly. 

Saturday morning came. After breakfast, Hed 
gathered up his books and took them to the libra- 
ry ; then he wandered off to look for his sisters, 
but Effie had gone to ride with Harry, and Jeanie 
was busy in her own room. Off he started to 
the barn-yard, where he amused himself feeding 
the chickens and pigs; but he soon tired of this, 
so he went in the stable to talk to Tim. As he 
was returning towards the house, his father met 
him, and invited him to accompany him to Wood- 
neath. “ I’ll be with you in a moment, father,” 
he replied; ‘^but I’m on my way, just now, with 
a message for Jem. How soon do you start ?” 

“ At ten o’clock : I shall be gone until din- 
ner time,” answered his father. 

Jeanie was sewing in the library, and James 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


87 


was reading to her. “ ‘ In Denmark, the day 
before Whit-Sunday is called Yoldborg’s Day.’” 
This was the first sentence Hed heard as he 
opened the door. “There!” he exclaimed; “the 
very first word I hear is ‘Whit-Sunday.’ I 
actually believe you have got hold of some- 
thing I don’t know, after all my study ! But 
Tim wants to know if you’d like to have a ride 
on horseback ; Effie and Harry have gone long 
ago, and I’m going to Woodneath with father.” 

“ Well, Jeanie, what do you say ?” asked 
James, as he half closed his book. Jeanie 
looked at her brother for a moment, but he, 
guessing her design, added — “I do not care to 
go this morning if you are busy.” 

“ Why, she’s only darning stockings,” inter- 
posed Hed. 

“ Which you have only torn,” she smilingly 
replied, as she held up a sock marked “E. K.” 

“ Never mind, Jeanie,” said Ned, crossing the 
room, and making a necklace of his arms for 
her ; “ I can go without stockings, or, if you’ll 
show me how, I’ll mend them myself.” 

“ I can mend them sooner than to teach you 
the way ; but the stockings are not keeping me 


88 


WHITSUNTIDE 


at home. I think that we shall enjoy a ride 
better this afternoon — it makes me stupid to 
ride in the morning.” 

“Ah, that’s comforting!” James gave a very 
contented grunt, and, settling himself in his arm- 
chair, re-opened his book. 

“ Well, it’s comforting to m^,” interrupted 
Ned, “ to learn that ‘ riding in the morning,’ 
and not nature, is to blame for my sister’s — 
I won’t say what !” 

“ You’d better not think it, either, or I’ll pelt 
you with stocking-balls, as there is no snow on 
the ground.” 

“ Oh ! then. I’ll think as I always have 
done, that nature is to blame !” 

“There, take that!” and Jeanie hit him on 
his nose with a pair of folded stockings. “ And 
that, and that !” 

Ned returned them, as fast as Jeanie flung 
them, and they kept up quite a game of ball, 
until Jem protested against ‘ knuckle there ’ in 
the library, and suggested that he ehould be 
left in peace and quiet, to continue his Danish 
researches. 

■“ Any old customs ?” quickly asked Ned, 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


89 


but without giving them a chance to reply, he 
darted out of the room, exclaiming, — “Hold on 
— wait till I tell Tim you don’t want the 
horses.” 

“What a customer for customs he is,” said 
James. “ I believe if it was customary for 
one to walk on one’s head, he’d try it.” 

“ He ought to live in the Custom House,” 
remarked Jeanie. 

“ My brilliant sister !” returned Jem, “ how 
long did it take you to think of all that?” 

In a few moments Ned returned, and set- 
tling himself down in listening attitude, James 
continued reading. It was an account of Y old- 
borg’s Hay, at which time the young people in 
Denmark celebrate what they call the “riding 
in of summer.” Dressed in their best they set 
forth, . accompanied with a band of music, and 
young girls bearing garlands of flowers. After 
riding through various villages, and inviting 
all the young people they met to join them, 
which invitation is given by flinging wreaths 
ot flowers at them, they assembled at some 
house, and there partook of a grand feast. 
When James finished this account, he turned 


90 


WHITSUNTIDE 


over the leaves of the book, at heed’s request, 
to find another custom. 

“I suppose these feasts are like the "Whit- 
sun Ales, which were very common in the 
fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, in England,’’ 
said Jeanie. 

“‘Whitsun Ales;’ were they good to drink?” 
asked I^ed, who had not understood Jeanie’s 
remark. 

“ Undoubtedly there was something good to 
drink,” she replied ; “ but ‘ ale ’ was a term 
which signified festival, or ‘ merry making." 
The Whitsun Ale was a feast, given by par- 
ishioners at Whitsuntide. Two young men of 
the parish were chosen by those of the year 
before, to be ‘ wardens,’ as they were called, 
whose duty it was to collect provisions, and 
brew ale for this feast.” 

“ Do you know the supposed origin of these 
‘ ales,’ as they were called ?” asked James. 

“Papa was telling me a few days ago, of the 
‘Love feasts,’ or feasts of charity, called Agapse 
among the early Christians — do you refer to 
these ?” 

James assented, and would have continued 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


91 


reading, but Ned stopped him, by asking what 
these love feasts were. 

He replied, “The term, Agapse, is derived 
from a Greek word, signifying love or charity. 
These feasts were celebrated in connection with 
the Lord’s supper, though not a necessary part 
of it. At first they were held in private 
houses, or retired places, where Christians met 
for religious worship. After churches were 
built, they were held in them, until abuses 
checked the practice altogether.” 

“ Then it was a religious feast,” said Ned, 
“ but the Ales were merry makings.” 

“ Certainly ; I only said the supposed origin 
of the Ales were the love feasts.” 

“ Well, go on and tell me all about them.” 

James continued — “Before partaking of this 
feast, the guests washed their hands, and pray- 
ers were offered by the Bishop and Presbyters, 
who always presided ; then a portion of Scrip- 
ture was read, and the people catechized upon 
it ; accounts of their own, and other Churches 
given them, so Christians became acquainted, 
and ready to assist each other. Letters from 
Bishops and eminent members of the Church 


92 


WHITSUNTIDE 


were also read, and the acts of Martyrs recited. 
Psalms and hymns were sung. At the close 
of the feast, money was collected for widows 
and orphans, poor and afflicted prisoners, and 
those who had been shipwrecked. Before part- 
ing, the guests kissed each other, in token of 
brotherly love, and then again joined in pray- 
er. There, Ned, I’ve given you a very con- 
densed account of a very long affair.” 

“We are both obliged to you,” replied Jea- 
nie. “But, Jem, have you forgotten that in 
North Germany there are several feasts like 
the English Ales? In the villages of Bruns- 
wick, for instance, they collect food, and take 
it to what they call a Whitsuntide field, and 
there eat it.” 

“ I had quite forgotten it,” answered her 
brother. “ All of these customs can, doubt- 
less, be traced back to the festivals of the 
early Christians.” 

The bell for luncheon rang as James ceased 
speaking; and Ned, although he thanked his 
brother for telling him about the Agapm, ex- 
pressed great satisfaction at the prospect of 
having something to eat himself. 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


93 


Effie and Harry, who had just returned from 
their ride, were already seated at the table 
when Jeanie and her brothers entered. Effie’s 
round hat, which she had thrown down on 
the sofa, was decked wdth bunches of azalia 
and branches of birch-leaves, which she had 
gathered while passing through the woods, 
while Harry’s riding-cap bore three or four 
immense “ cat-tails,” which showed that they 
had ridden towards the outlet of Copake Lake, 
where these curious reeds grew in abundance. 
The button-holes of his coat, as w'ell as those 
of his little cousin’s riding-habit, were filled 
with adder-tongue violets and maid en’s-h are- 
brake, while bright yellow Solomon’s seal 
drooped its leaves as if thirsting for its na- 
tive swamp. On the table lay a .bunch of 
fragrant pond lilies. “ Mr. Kivers sent those 
to mamma,” said Effie, as Jeanie took them 
up to look at. “He had a whole handful of 
them.” 

“Why, have you been into Woodneath, 
dressed off with all those flowers?” 

“ Oh no, Hed,” replied Harry ; “ we met 
Mr. Eivers on the road, near the outlet, and 


94 


WHITSUNTIDE 


he cut off those cat-tails for me. Did you 
go to Woodneath with uncle?” 

“ 'No ; Jeanie and Jem have been reading, 
so I stayed home with them. But here comes 
mamma — now for something to eat.” 

‘‘ I vronder if you know how appropriate 
birch leaves are, for the Whitsuntide holi- 
days?” asked Janies, who sat beside Eflie and 
amused himself with peeling off, and eating 
some of the young bark, from the branch 
which lay in her lap. 

“ What do you mean, Jamie ?” replied his 
little sister. “ What’s ‘ how appropriate T ” 

‘‘ This birch ; for in the book wdiich Jeanie 
and I were looking over this morning, we 
found that not only in England,^®^ but in the 
I^orth German provinces, every thing was de- 
corated wdth birch, or ‘ may,’ as they call it, 
at Whitsuntide. In Germany they sometimes 
have a birch queen and king; it is like the 
May-day queen in England.” 

“ Aunt Effie, don’t you begin to feel jea- 
lous?” asked Ned, looking over towards his 
aunt, who sat at the head of the table, near 
Jeanie. 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


95 


“ Jealous ! Of whom she asked in re- 
turn. 

“ Why, you know that you used to be our 
‘Popular Antiquities,’ but Jem has taken your 
place, lately. College has made a regular 
‘ Cyclopedia’ of him.” 

“ Oh, Ned !” broke in Effie, who always stood 
ready to take Jem’s part, although she didn’t 
quite understand what they were talking about. 
“ Jamie’s got two eyes, and my mythology 
says that ‘ Cyclopedia’ had only one eye !” 

Poor Euphie was utterly dismayed by the 
shout of laughter which greeted this innocent, 
but, as she thought, learned remark. 

“ Are you not thinking of Cyclops, dear 
Euphie ?” asked her mother. 

“ Oh, yes !” and then Effie laughed, too. 
“ But tell me, Ned,” she added, “ who was 
Cyclopedia ?” 

“ Pll show you one of them after lunch. 
Encyclopedia is the most correct name, and 
it’s a — a — what is it, Jem ?” 

“ Oh, Ned ! you use such big wwds, you 
don’t know what they mean yourself, half 


96 


WHITSUNTIDE 


the time;” and Effie gave a mischievous glance 
towards her brother. 

James, meanwhile, looked wonderfully thought- 
ful. He knew perfectly well that the term 
came from three Greek words — en, meaning 
in ; kuklos, a circle ; paideia, sciences — but he 
did not know exactly how to make it plain 
to his little sister. 

Aunt Effie, womanlike, came to his aid. 
“ An encyclopedia means in a circle of learn- 
ing ; that is, Effie, dear, the whole round of 
knowledge.” 

“ Ho, no ! you need not feel jealous,” said 
Hed, in a comforting tone. “ Jem cannot be 
a ‘ Popular Antiquity’ quite yet ; he has to 
trust to your help. Aunt Effie.” 

“ And Pm proud to have an aunt upon whose 
knowledge I can rely,” returned Jem. 

Harry, who perfectly understood this gallant 
remark, looked up with his gentle smile, saying, 
“ I have the most reason to be proud, for I not 
only have mother, but also you. Cousin Jem.” 

‘‘Thank you, Harry” — it 'was all Jem could 
say ; he knew that the little boy had spoken 
from his heart, and Harry never said any thing 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


97 


but what he felt to be true. After luncheon, 
it was not Effie’s hand he took when they ran 
out for a race on the lawn, but his little cousin’s, 
whom he had thoughtlessly neglected for the 
last two days. 

'Ned proposed trying a shooting match, and, 
with Tim’s assistance, a target was brought. 
Bows were soon strung, and Jennie was the first 
to take her stand. “ If you become ‘ queen,’ of 
course you know what to do with your target,” 
said James. 

“ Certainly,” replied Jeanie ; “ but you will 
have to climb to the gable of the roof for 
me.” 

While she was choosing an arrow, IS’ed begged 
to know what 'the gable of the roof had to do 
with the target. Jem explained a practice that 
there formerly was during Whitsuntide, in Han- 
over and Brunswick. The one who gained the 
prize in archery was made king, and he was 
permitted to nail the target to the highest gable 
of his roof, until the following year. (7) 

‘‘ Then, Jem, if we have the Whitsuntide arch- 
ery games, we might try the ‘ Kantenreiten,’ ” 

said Jeanie. 

9 


98 


WHITSUNTIDE 


“ What’s that ?” asked Ned ; — ‘‘ I’m afraid 1 
shall get tired of customs, bv-and-hy. 

“Then we’ll give you a good dose of them 
now,” replied Jem, laughing. “Know, then, that 
the ‘ Kantenreiten’ takes place in Blumenhagen, 
near Yierraden, on the first festival day of Whit- 
suntide. It is a foot-race. A loaf of white bread 
called ‘ week’ is set on a pole, and the first who 
reaches it is made king.” 

“ Then, in Stapel,” added Jeanie, “ they have 
foot-races and horse-races, and the winner is made 
king, and crowned with willow wands and fiow- 
ers.” 

“ Don’t forget the smacking of whips, Jeanie.” 

“ Oh ! tell me about that,” said Harry. 

“The stable boys in many of these North 
German provinces have a practice of snapping 
whips in concert on Whitsun Eve.” 

“Then, Jeanie,” added James, “there was 
another custom in England for Whitsun Eve — 
what was it?” 

Ned put his hands to his ears, declaring his 
head was already full, and he feared it would 
crack open, if another custom -was added. 

“• It wouldn’t be civil to insinuate that it was 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


99 


cracked-brained already,” said Jeanie ; “ how- 
ever, I must tell you about Font Hallowing. 
It was formerly performed Easter Even, and 
Whitsun Eve, and children were kept to be bap- 
tized until this time ; but the custom was soon 
done away, for, fearing the children might die 
before the festival came round, the Church or- 
dered baptism at all times during the year. 

“ Churches were not only decked with gar- 
lands at Whit-Sunday, but grass was strpwn upon 
the floor. But I’ll have mercy, and not weary 
you any more at present. Come, let us try 
our skill.” 

An hour passed away; ITed’s and Harry’s 
arrows were in the white. The last trial was 
now to take place. Hed, with his long lance- 
wood bow, placed himself before the target, and 
fitted the arrow to the string. “ I’ll hit the 
mark this time,” said he, turning towards Effie, 
who held a little wreath of osier and birch 
twigs, “so prepare to crown me.” He turned 
his face towards the target, adjusted the arrow 
once more, and drew back the string. Away 
flew the feathered shaft ; it was a moment of 
intense excitement to the children, but unfortu- 


100 


WHITSUNTIDE 


nately his arm was tired, he had not the strength 
fully to draw his bow. The arrow wavered, 
just touched the outside rim ©f the bull’s-eye, 
then fell to the ground. 

“ Yery well done, I^^ed,” exclaimed Jem, “but 
Harry can beat that, I am sure.” 

“ Oh, no, Jem ! Hed deserves the crown, he 
is stronger than I am, besides a strong breeze 
is springing up.” 

“ ISTever mind,” they all urged,” only try your 
best, Harry.” 

The little boy took Efiie’s bow, which was 
smaller and lighter, and chose a smoothly 
feathered arrow. After fitting it to the string, 
he stood for a moment, looking intently at the 
target. Suddenly, he raised his bow — the very 
breeze seemed to have stilled itself — the 
‘ twang ’ of his bow-string was plainly heard, 
and then the ‘click’ of the arrow, against the 
target. A shout arose, for there, right in the 
centre of the bull’s-eye, stuck the arrow! Tim, 
who stood by, was equally delighted. “ Old 
Tim couldn’t a done it better hisself ; Master 
Harry ’ll be a great man, see if he don’t I” 

“ Suppose we let Tim try to hit the mark ” 


AT CEDAK GROVE. 


101 


said Effie. “ Here Tim, take Jem’s bow ; now, 
if you can hit Harry’s arrow, you shall be 
crowned.” 

“ Oh, no ! Tim don’t want to be president !” 
(Tim couldn’t imagine a higher title). “ Any- 
way, Tim’ll shoot, only not at such a big 
mark as that; he’ll fix sun’thing for hisself.” 

Towards the garden there was a terraced 
bank. In the grassy side of this, old Tim stuck 
a small white daisy. “ How, Miss Effie, that’s 
going to be druv in, unless Tim’s forgot how 
to shoot.” 

The children gathered around him. He was at 
least twenty paces from the mark, but with 
true Indian precision, he took his aim. “ Whar’s 
it gone ?” said he, laughing, for the white 
flower, as well as the arrow, had disapeared. 
Every one of the children started towards the 
terrace. They found the arrow; it had crush- 
ed the daisy, and gone into the bank, its fea- 
thered head alone visible through the grass. 

With one consent, Tim was crowned. He 
still keeps his wreath, and, next to his Bible 
and Prayer-Book, holds it in deepest reverence. 
“ Miss Eflle made it,” he tells those to whom 
9 * 


102 


WHITS UNTIDE 


he shows it, “and Tim wouldn’t take a gold 
crown for it. Tim must have it put in his cof- 
fin, and oh, don’t he wish he could take it to 
heaven !” Tears still tremble in the dear old 
man’s eyes, as he thinks of the bright May 
morning when the beautiful child placed that 
once fresh crown on his weary old head ; 
weary, for many years had passed over it since 
he, too, had been a young and happy boy. But 
Tim was crowned. Oh, could you have seen 
the way he danced up and down the lawn, for 
Effie’s amusement ! 

“ Come, Tim,” said James, at last — “ Jeanie 
and I want our horses at three o’clock ; it is 
after two now.” 

Away started Tim on a slow trot towards the 
stable, one hand holding on his wreath, the 
Other waving about his old white hat, the 
crown of which had long since gone, no one 
knew whither. 

Jeanie and Jem returned to the house to 
prepare for their ride, while the other children 
remained out on the lawn, trying, but in vain, 
to drive in daisies, as Tim did. 

The horses were led to the door, just as their 


AT .CEDAR GROVE. 


103 


riders came out on the piazza. With Jem’s as- 
sistance, Jeanie was quickly mounted, but 
“Percy,” who had not carried a lady foi^ many 
months, was disposed to rear, as the long riding 
skirt fell against his legs. Jeanie was too 
good a horse-Avoman to be disconcerted by 
such airs in her old pony. “Give him some- 
thing to jump for,” said Xed, who had crossed 
the lawn to see them mount; but before her 
brother had finished his sentence, J eanie’s 
stinging little riding-whip, had descended on 
Percy’s fore flank. Ofi* dashed the horse at a 
furious pace, but as suddenly stopped, and 
stood like a spoiled child, half wishing to be 
good, yet half a mind to be naughty a little 
while' Iqnger. Jeanie’s voice and gentle pat- 
ting brought back the good-nature, so, like a 
sensible pony, he walked towards “ Pipton,” 
who was backing and champing his bit, impa- 
tient to be off. 

Very quietly the riders guided their horses 
towards the lodge gate, and having passed 
it, away they cantered along the shady 
woods. They rode on for several miles, chat- 
ting merrily all the way. “ Are you prepared 


104 


WHITSUNTIDE 


for one of our exploring expeditions?” asked 
James, checking his horse, as they neared what 
seemed a narrow, mountain path-way. 

“ Indeed I am,” replied his sister. ‘‘ Where 
does this path lead?” 

“Ido not remember to have seen it before,” 
he answered. “Shall we try it?” 

Jeanie joyously assented, thinking that it was 
some new “slide” made for the lumber which 
had been felled on the mountain during the 
past winter. The steepness of the ascent did 
not deter them. After a few moments of up- 
hill toil the pathway turned towards the left, 
and they entered a thick forest of pines and 
hemlocks, but with a road plainly visible before 
them. “ Strange we never knew of this road 
before,” said Jeanie; “have you any idea where 
we are?” 

“To the south-east of Cedar Grove,” replied 
her brother, looking at the little compass at- 
tached to his watch chain. “Is it not charm- 
ing?” 

How delicious was the May breeze as it 
swept through the pines — and the sunbeams 
shedding a golden haze all beneath the dark 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


105 


green branches — the shrill and trilling call of 
woodland birds — the heavy, muffled tread of 
the horses upon the pine and hemlock turf 
made by the fallen sprays which long, long 
years had silently buried. Then skirting the 
side of a deep ravine the road brought them 
to a clearing, where the black stumps of old 
trees rose up through thick green underbrush. 

“All, we have come upon a charcoal-burner’s 
village,” said James. And so it was, if the 
half-dozen miserable little log huts, and gray 
board shanties, could be called a village. 

“ What wretched-looking creatures !” exclaim- 
ed Jeanie in a low tone, as the inhabitants 
came running out into the road, attracted by 
the sudden appearance of two “ towns'-folks.” 
The women with uncombed hair hanging in 
long elf-locks beside their pale faces — their 
dresses torn, and soiled with charcoal dust — 
seemed more like witches than mere human 
beings. Some of the men were lounging in 
little groups around their “ charcoal pits,” as 
they called those mounds covered with earth 
all ready to be set on fire, while others were 
playing quoits before the door of the largest 


106 


WHITSUNTIDE 




shanty, which seemed to be the tavern of the 
place. 

Let us hurry past these people,” continued 
Jeanie, at the same time touching Percy with 
her whip. The horse would have sprung for- 
ward, but James seized his sister’s check rein, 
throwing the animal almost on his haunches, 
but saving, perhaps, the lives of two children, 
although at the risk of his sister’s. There the 
little things sat, directly in the middle of the 
road, making mud-pies, perfectly heedless of their 
danger, nor would they move, even when they 
saw the horse almost upon them. The eldest 
threw her largest mud-pie at the restive ani- 
mal, a deed which the “noble Percy” by no 
means relished, for, notwithstanding his power- 
ful check, he reared and leaped, clearing the 
children. 

Jeanie kept her seat, and even urged her 
horse forward, fearing abusive language from 
the rough mountaineers. She was not mistaken, 
for as James came galloping up to her, the 
people set up a hideous yell which lasted until 
they passed out of sight. “ Oh, Jem ! do you 
think the people are angry with us, or are they 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


107 


only trying to frighten us ? I wish we knew 
where this road came out.” 

“N’onsense, Jeanie,” replied her brother, laugh- 
ing at the anxious expression on his sister’s 
face. ‘‘We must be directly in front of Cedar 
Grove, for Taconic is before us. Only see how 
beautiful the view is !” 

They had just emerged from the woods, and 
were now on a high ledge of table-land. Up- 
on their left rose an abrupt clitf, while to the 
right the mountain sloped downward to a lake 
embosomed in trees. Before them rose the 
Berkshire Hills, peak upon peak, until the 
ffreat blue dome of Taconic shut out all other 
things. The golden haze of the afternoon sun 
had passed away, but crimson and purple mists 
oathed the whole landscape in royal splendor. 
There lay the lake — but if they were in front 
of Cedar Grove why could they not distinguish 
the boat-house upon the lake shore? This 
thought flashed at once on Jem’s mind, and 
he looked down to consult his compass, but to 
his dismay, it was no longer on his chain, tli^ 
little split ring had broken. 

“ Where are we, Jem ?” asked Jeanie ; “ 1 


108 


WHITSUNTIDE 


cannot recognize a single object except Ta- 
conic.” 

“We couldn’t have a better guide,” replied 
her brother, assuming his most cheerful expres- 
sion ; and then he tried to draw his sister into ^ 
conversation ; but in this he was unsuccessful. 

“ Jamie,” said she, stopping her horse, “ had 
we not better turn back ? What does your com- 
pass say ?” ^ 

“ I’ve lost my compass, Jeanie and he 
showed her the broken ring. “ I do not think 
it will be safe for us to pass those mountaineers 
again ; this road must lead to some farm house ; 
it is still quite light ; let us keep on.” 

“It is light to us, Jamie, but we are on a 
mountain ; it must be getting dark in the valley.” 

James looked at his watch; it was after six 
o’clock ; so they urged their horses forward at a 
rapid pace. More and more beautiful the scenery 
became, yet more and more strange. “ Don’t 
check your horse, Jeanie,” said James; “let 
us hurry through this last tract of woodland ; 
see, we are slowly descending the mountain.” 

Again they entered the woods, twilight falling 
fast around them. “ Halt !” exclaimed a loud 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


109 


shrill voice. Kipton, whom N'ed had trained 
to stand still at this word, stopped so suddenly, 
that James was nearly thrown ; Percy, too, 
halted, but it was at Jeanie’s command. Slowly 
there emerged from behind a clump of laurel 
bushes, the queerest-looking old man that ever 
walked the earth. His coat, which had once been 
snuff-colored cloth, was covered with patches of 
black, blue, and red, while buttons of every 
shape and size decked the back and sleeves. 
He wore gray knee-breeches, and purple stock- 
ings ; his shoes — if the leather bound round his 
feet with twine could claim the name of shoes — 
were covered with dust. In one hand he carried 
a black bag, in the other, a mop-handle, to 
which was fastened bunches of weeds, long green 
reeds, and branches of various shrubs. 

‘‘ Pass slowly on, Jen,” whispered James, 
“he is probably crazy.” 

“ Halt,” again exclaimed ^the poor creature.. 
“ Crazy, Heff crazy ! Ali, my son, who built the 
road to Boston ? Heff. Who loves flowers ?' 
Heff. Whose grand-children will love him for 
saving Washington’s life? Heff’s.” Here the 
old man commenced a well-known psalm tune.. 

10 


110 


WHITSUNTIDE 


Mj friend,” said James, guiding his horse, 
towards him, “ can jou tell me where this road 
leads — how far are we from Woodneath village?” 

‘‘Woodneath! Never again will ye see it,” 
replied the strange being, in solemn tones. “ This 
road leads to destruction ; but, hush — ” here he 
pressed close up to Jeanie, and, placing a piece 
of everlasting flower on her knee, broke into the 
following rhyme : 

“ Injin posy to cheeks so rosy. 

Sassafras to you — ” 

Here he flung a branch to James — 

“ Blood-root, gentian, dock and willow, 

Lastly, take my rue.” 

So saying, he laid a bunch of various weeds 
beside the everlasting. Jeanie gathered them 
up, and, thanking the old man, would have 
gone on, but he seized her bridle. “ Rue — ^yes, 
rue, my child; take it, ye’ll need it; yer ma ’ll 
need it this blessed night. 

“Rue, rue, I give it you.” 

Here James rode beside him, and, steadily 
fixing his eye on the old man’s, asked, slowly : 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


Ill 


“ Which way must I turn to reach Wood- 
neath ?” 

“ Keep on ; turn to your right twice ; then 
there’s a house ; say that old Heff sent you, then 
they’ll tell you the way; but, stop, come let us 
sing — ” 

“ Jeanie, follow me,” exclaimed James, whip- 
ping his horse. His sister obeyed, and they 
were far down the mountain before Heff could 
cry “ halt ” again. 

“Oh, Jamie, how crazy that poor fellow is!” 
said Jeanie, when they slackened their pace. 
“I wonder what made him so?” 

“Why, have you never seen him before?” 
asked James, in surprise. “ It is ‘ crazy Heff,’ 
of whom you must have heard us speak. I 
recognized him the moment he commenced sing- 
ing that Methodist hymn. 

“ I have heard him spoken of, but never saw 
him before,” returned his sister. “ Why does 
he sing Methodist hyms?” 

“The cause of his craziness is a disputed 
point ; but the most reliable story is, that, when 
a young man, his feelings became very much 
excited at a camp-meeting ; he had worked 


112 


WHITSUNTIDE 


himself up into a frenzy, and never recovered 
his reason afterwards. He is perfectly harmless, 
but the wildest and queerest fancies are con- 
stantly rushing through his brain ; at times, he 
imagines himself John the Baptist, and will 
preach for hours out in the woods; twice he 
has been sun-struck from lying in the open 
fields at noon-day, imagining, as he has said, to 
be ‘ wrapped in a cloud of glory !’ ” 

“ Poor fellow ! how sad his story is. But come, 
Jem, we must hurry on.” 

Meanwhile, what was passing at Cedar Grove ? 
The sun had set, and the long spring twilight 
had gathered around the old stone house. Effie 
and Harry were stationed at the school-room 
window overlooking the road, while Hed kept 
in constant motion between the hou-se and 
lodge ; all were anxiously watching for the sis- 
ter and brother. “They promised to be home 
by dinner time,” said Mrs. Kuthven, “ but now 
it is seven o’clock.” 

Did Jem say in which direction they were 
going?” asked Mr. Euthven, who had returned 
from Woodneath some time before. 

“Ho, papa; but Jamie said they would be 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


113 


home early, for Jem had a story to tell us this 
evening — hark, I think I hear them.” 

But he was mistaken, it was only the night 
wind stirring the heavy branches of the trees. 
As time passed by, the family became more 
anxious. The old clock struck eight, lamps 
were lighted — still the absent ones came not. 
“Unless they are here in half an hour,” said 
Mr. Buthven, as he returned from walking up 
and down the road, “Tim and I will drive 
into Woodneath, and see if we can hear any 
thing of them.” 

The time passed away, the light wagon was 
ordered, and, surrounded by anxious faces, Mr. 
Buthven, with Ued and Tim, entered it, and 
started for the village. The hotel was the first 
place where they made inquiries ; for had the 
children passed that way, the idlers at the door 
must have seen them. While the landlord was 
declaring he had been sitting on the steps all 
the afternoon, and they had not passed his door, 
Tim returned from the opposite corner of the 
street to say that some people, who had just 
driven in from Dalehill, had seen Miss Jeanie 

and her brother about half past three o’clock 
10 =^ 


114 


WHITSUNTIDE 


in the afternoon, after passing through the vil- 
lage, turn towards the mountain road. 

“ Then, Tim, they must return by way of 
Woodneath,” replied Mr. Ruthven, ‘‘unless they 
go home the same road they started.” 

“ Miss Jeanie nebher likes to do that,” said 
old Tim quickly. “ Tliey’d have got home long 
ago if they’d a come from Dalehill to Wood- 
neath, for it’s only six miles — no, no, they didn’t 
take that road.” Tim’s face assumed a troubled 
expression, and he drew nearer Mr. Euthven 
to whisper — “ P’raps they bin and took the coal 
road, which leads way off t’other side ’er moun- 
tain over into Laketown. It’s ’er little wood- 
pathy track, and Mr. James always likes them 
poky sort of places.” 

“ I never knew there was such a road, Tim. 
How far is Lakeville from here?” asked Mr. 
Euthven in surprise. 

“ Oh, by that road which is only good for coal 
wagons, it’s as good as twenty-five miles round 
— ^let’s see — why they has to go t’other side ’er 
Salisbury pond, then round by Squire Acres’ 
medder lots, till they gits on the road to this 
’ere village, and then oh — ” here Tim took off 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


115 


his hat and began to rub his head — “oh they’ll 
have to ride nigh thirty miles afore they gits 
back to Cedar Grove !” 

“But is not the place dangerous after night- 
fall?” said Mr. Kuthven; “and did Miss Jeanie 
or Mr. James ever ask about the road ?” 

“JSToj no,” replied Tim; “but if Mr. James 
saw the path he’d like to take it, ’cause he’d 
think he could turn back any time — oh dear I 
poor Tim’s afeared they got lost.” 

This report spread quickly through the vil- 
lage, and a large crowd collected around the 
hotel. Tlie Ruthvens were so well known, and 
so much loved, that any accident happening to 
them would find ready sympathy in the hearts 
of the people. Late as it was, several offered 
to search the coal road, and five of the work- 
men on Cedar Grove farm, started off before 
Mr. Buthven could prevent them. 

Equally anxious were the family at home, 
as the hours passed without bringing the chil- 
dren. About half past nine o’clock Mr. Eivers 
walked from Woodneath to tell Mrs. Euthven 
that Jeanie and James had been seen in Dale- 
hill in the afternoon, and that ITed and Tim 


116 


WHITSUNTIDE 


had gone there to gather any further informa- 
tion. 

“When the men went to search the coal 
road did they take bells with them?” asked 
Mrs. Ruthven. “In case the children have 
lost their way in the woods, they could be 
guided by the sound of a bell.” 

EflSe, entering the room as her mother ceased 
speaking, heard only the last few w^ords. “ Oh, 
yes, Mr. Rivers !” she exclaimed, “ ring the 
church-bells, and then Jamie will be sure to 
hear them !” Her mother explained to her, that 
she had spoken of hand-bells — not the church- 
bells as Efiie had supposed. “But why not 
the church-bells, mamma!” persisted the little 
girl. “ People in the village know that poor 
Jeanie and Jamie are lost, so they won’t be 
frightened and think it is for fire. Oh, dear 
Mr. Rivers — please have them rung.” 

The Rector hesitated. There stood Euphie 
looking up so beseechingly with her tearful 
eyes. Harry, too, had caught one of his hands 
and murmured — “please do, Mr. Rivers.” Mrs. 
Ruthven’s pale face for a moment flushed with 
an expression of hope, while she sadly but 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


117 


quietly urged — “ the church-bells can be heard 
a great distance ; I think the children might 
be guided by them if they are on the moun- 
tains.” Poor Effie, who always cried over the 
story of the “ babes in the woods,” could bear 
suspense no longer, sinking down on the sofa, 
and hiding her face in the pillows, she burst 
into tears, murmuring — “Jamie, Jamie, dear, 
dear Jeanie, come home to Euphie ; oh, mam- 
ma, they’ll be all night in the woods, and 
starve to death.” 

“ I will have the bells rung, Effie,” replied 
the Pector, looking at his watch, (it was ten 
o’clock,) “ and will return at once to the village.” 

“Wait until I can order — ” Mrs. Puthven 
paused, “I was going to order a horse for 
you, but Tim and all the men servants have 
left the place.” 

“ There is one of the carriage horses in the 
stable, aunt; I will help Mr. Kivers to saddle 
him,” said Harry. 

The Hector would have declined taking the 
horse, but Mrs. Ruthven insisted upon his 
riding, and Harry, lantern in hand, went out 
to the stable. Fox was soon saddled, and Mr. 


118 


WHITSUNTIDE 


Rivers rode rapidly towards the village. The 
night was chilly, and it would have been very 
dark but for the clear starlight — the moon had 
not yet risen. Wrapped in shawds, Effie and 
Harry ran up and down the piazza waiting to 
hear the peal of the bells. But we must return 
to our wanderers. James and his sister followed 
the crazy old man’s directions, but when they 
came to the road leading to the right both the 
horses refused to go that way, neither kind 
words nor whipping proved of avail, Percy and 
Ripton turned towards the left. “ Jeanie,” said 
James at last, “ let us drop our bridles and 
trust to our horses ; I have heard that they 
know the shortest w^ay to their stables.” 

“Yery well, 'Jamie; I will do any thing to 
find our way out of these woods. I am not 
frightened myself, but poor mamma” — her voice 
faltered. It required all Jem’s cheerfulness to 
make her smile again. But it was a forced 
cheerfulness after all ; both felt that they were 
lost, and it was now so dark in the woods that 
they could not distinguish one object from an- 
other. “There Percy — there Ripton, carry us 
safely, ponies !” The next moment the horses 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


119 


were stepping quickly along the left-hand road, 
while their bridles were hanging loosely on their 
necks. 

Onward they went until the wood path was 
left far behind them, and they started on a 
gentle trot along a fine hard road. Soon the 
riders resumed their reins, for they were de- 
scending a steep hill — ^yet the moment they 
came to a turn in the road they allowed the 
horses to choose their own way. 'No farm 
house, no cottage came in sight ; they saw 
nothing before them but an opening between 
the fences of the fields through which they 
were passing, and an occasional bridge under 
which rushed a little mountain brook. Many 
were their conjectures as to where the road 
would lead them, but the horses cantered 
swiftly along, as if sure their stable and supper 
of oats were already before them. 

Jeanie, who thought nothing of a ride of 
eighteen miles, was nearly sinking with fatigue. 

Oh, Jamie, we must walk our horses,” she 
almost whispered, “I feel as if I should faint.” 

Her voice trembled so much that James 
caught her bridle, and putting his arm around 


120 


WHITSUNTIDE 


her, tried to support her. More and more 
heavily she leaned upon him ; he caught her 
wrist, the pulse was still — she had fainted. Stop- 
ping the horses, Jem dismounted and tied Rip- 
ton to the fence, then supporting his sister on 
Percy, he guided the horse back to the brook 
they had crossed. The cold water sprinkled on 
Jeanie’s face revived her; in a few moments 
she was w^ell enough to dismount and sit down 
on the bridge to rest. “Are you not tired, 
Jamie?” she asked. 

“ A little ; but Pm real hungry,” he replied, 
laughing. “ Oh, how I should like a piece of 
bread and butter, no matter how thick I” 

“Then you must be hungry, indeed,” she 
smiled, remembering how her brother disliked a 
thick slice of bread. “ Come, I feel rested now ; 
let us w^alk on slowly ; only give me a drink of 
water; I shall be better for it.” 

Jem made a cup of his hands. “ Such a goblet 
as the Queen of England could not command!” 
said he, laughing. 

Leading their horses, they walked some dis- 
tance; every object seemed new and strange. 
Their hearts were sinking within them, wdien 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


121 


suddenly Jem stopped. “ Hark, Jeanie ! are not 
those the church bells?” 

She listened. “ O, Jem, they are ; they must 
be St. Mary’s bells ; hark ! yes, yes ! we are 
going towards Woodneath!” 

Distant, indeed, was the sound, but still the 
cheering peal brought joy and gladness to their 
hearts. “ Our own dear church bells !” mur- 
mured the brother and sister, as, hand in hand, 
they knelt for a moment upon the hard ground, 
and offered a prayer of thanksgiving. 

“ O Jeanie, how appropriate those lines seem 
to us now — 

“‘The music of our mother’s voice.’ 

It seems like our own mother calling to us.” 

“Yes, Jamie; but I wonder if they really are 
ringing for us ?” 

“ It must be,” replied her brother ; “ and, 
look, is not that a light before us?” 

“Indeed it is; and there is another just be- 
yond ; come, Jem, I feel strong enough to ride 
now.” 

The excitement was good for both of them. 
They were quickly on horse-back, and a few 


122 


WHITSUNTIDE 


moments’ brisk trot brought them before a little 
red cottage. James dismounted, and, rapping 
at the door, inquired the nearest way to Wood- 
neath. The old colored woman who lived there 
proved to be a former tenant of Mr. Ruthven’s, 
and as soon as she recognized James and his 
sister, and learned how they had been wandering 
in the woods, made them come in and take some 
supper. Jeanie by no means refused the thick 
slice of rye bread which old Liddy cut for her, 
and James ate his slice without waiting to butter 
it. “ This is not the last call we shall make on 
you, Liddy,” said Jeanie, as she rose to go. 
“ Next time we will come earlier, so as not to 
disturb you just as you are going to bed.” 

The old woman made many profound courte- 
sies, and declared she “ allers sot up late Satur- 
days to fix up her dress for meetin’ on Sunday,” 
and declaring she was j^rouder than a guinea- 
hen to have sich a han’som young gem’man as 
Massa James in her house.” Here she made 
another courtesy to Jem, and then turning to 
Jeanie — “ 0, laws, missy, you grow more and 
more like a pictur eb’ry day ; but you nebber 
be so sweet like yer ma ; oh, dear, no ! Old Lid 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


123 


speaks truth, ’deed she does ; and how’s yer dear 
blessed ma and pa ?” 

Question after question came from the old 
woman, then followed so many messages to all 
the family, that it was long before they could 
say “good night.” As they rode away, they 
turned, and saw Liddy bowing and courtesying 
in the door-way, where she stood until the clat- 
ter of their horses’ feet ceased, and they were far 
out of her sight. 

The bells had not ceased ringing when they 
galloped into Woodneath, and as soon as they 
were fairly in the village, shouts of “ Here they 
come!” “Here they are!” arose on every side. 
Walking tlieir horses towards the church, they 
met Mr. Rutliven on the road. “ 0, papa,” cried 
Jeanie, as she jumped from her horse, “I’m so 
very glad to be safely by you !” 

James, too, had dismounted, and given his 
horse to one of the servants. “ Who thought of 
ringing the church bells?” he asked eagerly, as 
he joined his father and sister. 

“ Your sister Effie,” replied Mr. Eivers, who 
now came out into the road ; “ she wanted the 
bells rung for ‘ Jamie. ’ ” 


124 


WHITSUNTIDE 


Tim, who had returned from DalehiTl a few 
moments before, now brought the horse and 
wagon, into w^hich Jeanie got with her father, 
while James and Tim rode home, ISTed riding 
Percy. A happier meeting could hardly be 
imagined than that which took place at Cedar 
Grove. 

“ Oh, Jamie, did you hear the bells ?” asked 
Effie, earnestly. 

“ Yes, indeed, he answered,” and I cannot tell 
you how much nearer home we seemed !” 

“It made us think of the verse you repeated 
walking home Ascension evening — 

“ ‘ The music of our mother’s voice’ ” — 

added Jeanie. “ I thought it would, and it 
was, too,” she replied with an arch smile ; “ for 
when Mr. Rivers saw how troubled mamma 
was — I think it made him decide to have them 
rung.” 

When they had finished their supper it was 
nearly one o’clock, and Sunday morning had 
almost dawned before they parted for the night. 
“A right judgment in all things,” repeated 
James to himself as he closed the door of his 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


125 


bed-room. He opened his prayer-book, and 
turned to the collect for Whit-Sunday. ‘‘Yes, 
I think I know one reason why father said 
this collect at prayers to-night; there are few 
little things in life, if we are guided by stern 
principle. K I had had a ‘right judgment’ I 
should have turned back as it grew dark this 
afternoon, instead of riding on over a road I 

had never gone before.” 

11 * 


126 


WHITSUNTIDE 


CHAPTER VI. 

“The fires that rushed on Sinai down 
In *sudden torrents dread, 

Now gently light, a glorious crown, 

On every sainted head. 

“Like arrows went those lightnings forth. 
Winged with the sinner’s doom; 

But these, like tongues, o’er all the earth 
Proclaiming life to come.” Keble. 


“ Wake up, my little Eupliie,” whispered a 
gentle voice close by Effie’s ear early on Whit- 
Sunday morning. 

“ Why, mamma, is it time to get up al- 
ready?” exclaimed the little girl as she opened 
her eyes and found her mother bending over 
her. Then springing up, she threw her arms 
about her mother’s neck. “It seems so early, 
mamma — I’m sure the sun isn’t up !” 

“Ah, yes it is, my little one, and the rob- 
ins have been singing at my window for this 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


127 


hour ; but look here for yourself, Euphie.” 
Mrs. Euthven drew back the curtains, and 
Effie climbed up in the chair by the window. 

Beautiful, indeed, was the morning. Early 
twilight had just brightened into silvery clouds, 
while a rosy mist hovered over the eastern 
mountains; every rock bathed in a flood of 
light, every cavern seemed walled and roofed 
with gold, even the dark mountain pines, edged 
with sunshine, shadowed not the eastern hea- 
ven. 

“Oh, I’m so glad it is pleasant to-day, dear 
mamma, and I’m so happy to think that 
Jeanie and James are safe at home, and I’m 
glad, too, that you called me early this morn- 
ing, for I promised to meet Harry in the gar- 
den at seven o’clock. Kiss me again, mamma,” 
she added, as her mother was leaving the room. 
“How I’ll hurry and see if I can’t be ready 
before Harry.” 

With Biddy’s assistance she was soon dressed, 
and away she ran to the garden. “ Good-morn- 
ing, Harry !” she exclaimed, as she caught sight 
of her cousin behind a large rose-bush. “ How 
long have you been waiting for me?” 


128 


WHITSUNTIDE 


“ITot long, besides, it is not quite seven 
o’clock yet. But see my roses, EfiSe — are not 
they beautiful ?” 

“ Yes, indeed, they are. I’m going to gather 
some, too ; but I want all white roses. You 
have only red ones.” 

“Why, Euphie?” asked her brother James, 
who, unperceived by her, had overheard their 
conversation. 

“Oh, Jamie! why I thought you were fast 
asleep ; you were very tired when you came 
home last night.” 

“ So I was ; but I have slept soundly for four 
hours.’'' 

“You look tired yet,” said Harry; “I think 
you ought to have slept a little longer.” 

“ Thank you, Harry, but I’m well enough ; 
come, Effie, tell me why you want white roses — 
to match that white dress of yours?” 

“ O, no, Jamie, I never thought of that,” she 
quickly replied ; “ it’s Whit-Sunday, you know. 
Well, I can’t tell you my reasons exactly, but I 
thought white would be more appropriate for 
to-day than any color.” 

“ So it is,” replied James. “ Hed must have 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


129 


told you one of the supposed origins of the name 
Whit-Sundaj.” 

“No, he hasn’t; what is it, Jamie?” 

“ Come over here on this garden seat, and I 
will try to tell you.” James lifted her on his 
knee, and making Harry sit down beside them, 
he began : “ A long time ago, it was the custom 
of the Church, that when persons received the 
holy sacrament of baptism, they should be dressed 
in white robes. White, you know, is the emblem 
of purity and innocence ; so the white robes were 
types of the spiritual purity of soul which is re- 
ceived at baptism. The neophytes, as the can- 
didates were called, not only wore white robes 
at their baptism, but for eight days afterwards. 
These garments were laid up in church, to remind 
their wearers of the vows they had taken, and 
to warn them not to sully, by evil actions, their 
baptismal purity. There is a very pretty story 
told of the Emperor Constantine ; if you are not 
tired of listening, shall I tell it to you?” 

“ Please tell it,” pleaded both of the children. 

“ Constantine,” continued James, “ notwith- 
standing the active part he had taken in the 
affairs of the Church, had deferred his baptism. 


180 


WHITSUNTIDE 


from a wish to receive it in the River Jordan. 
But in his sixty-fourth year, while at a palace 
near Mcomeclia, he was taken sick, and felt that 
he was dying. He sent for some bishops, and 
told them that he had never been baptized; so 
Eusebius, bishop of a neighboring city, admin- 
istered this sacrament. During the remaining 
days of his life, Constantine wore his white bap- 
tismal robe, refusing to wear the imperial purple, 
and, at noon, on Whit-Sunday, in the year 337, 
he died.” 

“ Thank you. Cousin James,” said Harry ; “ I 
like that story. So to-day is called Whit-Sunday, 
because of the white robes worn.” 

“Tliat is only one reason,” replied James ; 
“ there are several others which Hed will proba- 
bly give us this evening. How let us go and 
gather some white roses for Euphie.” 

Effie succeeded in finding many pretty buds 
which James cut for her, and then Harry ran 
to the green-house, and got a string to tie them. 
“ What are you going to do with them ?” asked 
her brother, as they walked slowly towards tjie 
house. 

Harry and I are going to take them to Mr. 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


131 


Eivers ; we haven’t any other present for him 
this morning.’^ 

“I have no present at all to give him,” said 
James. 

“ O, well,” replied HaiTj, as if to console his 
cousin, “ you and Jeanie and JS'ed give a pres- 
ent to the Church !” 

“How do you know?” asked James, in sur- 
prise. 

“ Because we saw Jeanie embroidering it,” 
answered both the children at once. “ I don’t 
know what to call it,” continued Effie ; “ but it’s 
a beautiful white velvet cloth, and upon it a 
silver dove hovering over a chalice, within a 
triangle; and then there is a wTeath of golden 
wheat and purple grapes all around the edge.” 

“ Yes, Euphie, you’ve described it very well ; 
you will see it in church to-day. It is an altar- 
cloth. Jeanie has worked it on purpose for Whit- 
suntide.” 

The family were assembled when they reached 
the breakfast-room. Jeanie’s long ride of the 
previous evening had tired lier so much, that 
her parents thought slie had better not attend 
morning service; but she ])leaded hard to go. 


132 


WHITSUNTIDE 


“ Sitting quietly in church will not tire me half 
as much as lolling on the sofa at home.” 

‘‘But, Jeanie, your face is 'almost as white as 
your dress,” remonstrated her father ; “ such pale 
cheeks are unusual with you.” 

“ I confess I feel faint, dear father ; but only 
let me ride to church, and if the air does not 
make my cheeks the color of Harry’s bouquet. 
I’ll return home.” 

“ W ell, well,” answered her father, smiling, 

“ if you get as far as the church porch, there 
will be no danger of your turning away.” 

When breakfast was over, Hed told James he ‘ 
wanted him in the school -room until it was 
time to start for church. His brother assented, 
and in a few moments they were seated beside 
the waiting table. “How, Jem,” said Hed, 

“ here are some of my Whitsuntide researches.” 
He placed several sheets of paper before his 
brother. “I have written them down, and I 
would like to have you listen while I read 
them, and if I have misstated any thing, please 
tell me.” 

“ Suppose I speak to you of something you 
don’t know?” replied James. 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


133 


“ Then you may keep the knowledge to your- 
self,” answered Ned; “but I should like you 
to tell me what you think of my ‘ sermon,’ as 
I will call it. Sit still now, and I will begin. 

“In the fourteenth chapter of St. John’s Gos- 
pel, we read of Christ’s promise to send a 
‘comforter,’ and in the second chapter of Acts, 
in the first verse, we find that on the day of 
Pentecost, when His disciples were all together 
in one place. His promise was fulfilled. The 
day of Pentecost was a high feast among the 
Jews, at which time many people came up to 
Jerusalem to pray for blessings on the coming 
harvest. It was at this time, then, that Christ 
sent His Comforter, or Paraclete, which signifies 
Comforter, Advocate, Teacher, and Kemem- 
brancer. There were a very great number of 
people at Jerusalem, and when they saw the 
wonderful wisdom of the poor fishermen, they 
blasphemously declared that they were drunk 
with new wine. Then it was that St. Peter 
preached his first public sermon, one which so 
afifected the audience that no less than three 
thousand persons were converted. 

“When God appointed the feast of Pente- 
12 


lU 


WHITSUNTIDE 


cost or of Weeks, He told His people, the 
Jews, ‘and ye shall count unto you from the 

morrow after the Sabbath even unto 

the morrow after the seventh Sabbath shall ye 
number fifty days.” (Lev. xxiii. 15, 16.) There- 
fore our Church has appointed our Pentecost 
fifty days after Easter, which is our Passover, 
and, like the Jews, the Church does not count 
from Easter Day itself, but from the Sunday 
following. It is a movable feast, and some- 
times falls in May or June, but always seven 
weeks after Easter. 

“ Our Saxon forefathers called this Sunday 
and its octave ‘ Pentecostes.’ In the Cornish 
language it was Pencas, or Penkast. At this 
time the wits, or wise men, were chosen for 
their Witenagemots, and this season was con- 
secrated to Hertha, their goddess of peace and 
festivity ; so some have supposed that when 
Paganism gave way to Christianity, this day 
adopted the name of Whit-Sunday as well as 
that of Pentecost. WickliflP, in his translation 
of the Hew Testament, spells it ‘ Wit-Sonday.’ 
Some writers say this word means Wisdom- 
day, in memory of the wisdom wdiich the holy 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


135 


Apostles received. Others say it came from 
‘ Wied,’ the Saxon word for sacred. Yestegan 
says the day was called Wied, or Wihed-Sun- 
day. 

“ The early Church appointed baptism espe- 
cially at this time, in memory of the Apos- 
tles who were baptized with the Holy Ghost 
and with fire, and also because they had bap- 
tized three thousand souls. In the primitive 
Church, those who had received this sacrament 
at Easter appeared in their white robes at 
Whit-Sunday. St. Gregory of Hazianzum tells 
us, that in memory of that glorious light — the 
difi*usion of knowledge sent down by the 
Father of Lights — the newly baptized carried 
candW®^ in their hands, which they lit at the 
altar, as symbols of those lamps of faith with 
which virgin souls shall go forth to meet the 
Bridegroom. He also tells us, that at the bap- 
tism of great men their attendants were clothed 
in white. 

“ Among the early Christians it was also cus- 
tomary to give milk and honey to the newly 
baptized. Milk denotes innocency — babies are 
fed with milk; so giving milk to the newly 


136 


WHITSUNTIDE 


baptized, typified their becoming children of 
our Saviour, who offered them rest in that 
land of promise, where it is said to fiow with 
milk and honey. Another ceremony was ob- 
served towards baptized infants, called the kiss 
of peace, to show, that by baptism men were 
restored to God’s peace and favor. 

“At Whitsuntide, our Saxon ancestors gave 
milk to the poor, that, by such deeds of charity, 
they might be more worthy to receive the Holy 
Spirit, the token of God’s love. In some part of 
Great Britain, milk is still called white meat, 
from which some have supposed the name Whit- 
Sunday to be derived. In Ireland, this feast was 
kept with milk food, as among the Hebrews, and 
a breakfast was composed of cake, bread, and a 
drink made by hot water poured on bran. 

“Whitsuntide was appointed for communion, 
by several councils of the early Church.” 

“ You have condensed the information very 
well, brother Hed. I could not have done it 
better. Where did you meet with St. Gregory’s 
account of the candles?” 

“ O, the whole of that I copied out of “ Bing 
ham’s Antiquities,” replied his brother ; “ I was 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


137 


sure you would know that the language was not 
mine ; it don’t sound like my writing. But, 
tell me, Jem, have I forgotten any thing impor- 
tant 4” 

“ Did you ever hear Whit-Sunday called ‘ Do- 
minica in Albis,’ or, ‘ Lord’s Day in white,’ from 
the white robes worn ?” 

“ O, yes, I remember ; here, let me write it 
down.” !Red took up a pen, and made a note 
of it. 

“ But, Ned, as Easter is likewise a day spe- 
cially appointed for baptism, its octave, formerly 
called Low Sunday, also bears the name of ‘ Do- 
minica in Albis.’ ” 

“ I know that, too, Jem,” he answered ; “ can 
you think of any thing else?” 

Before his brother could reply, Effie, who had 
been looking for them, came into the room, say- 
ing it was quite time to start for church, and 
that Aunt Effie, who had given up her seat in 
the carriage to Jem, had started to walk. 

“ I’ll go with her,” exclaimed Ned, and hastily 
gathering up his papers, and putting them in his 
portfolio, he ran down to the hall, and seized 

his cap. 

12 * 


138 


WHITSUNTIDE 


“Here is your prayer-book, Hed,” said Effie, 
calling to him. 

“ Well, please bring it in the carriage with 
you, Euphie.” So saying, he darted out of the 
house, and ran off as fast as he could. 

“ Haughty Aunt Effie,” he called out to Mrs. 
Howard, as soon as he was within speaking dis- 
tance, “ why didn’t you wait for me ?” 

“ Because I knew that James would not have 
taken my place in the carriage, if he thought I 
had given it up on purpose for him ; you were 
both together when I started ; I could not have 
called you, without telling him the reason ; and 
he is too tired to walk this morning.” 

“Since you have so good an excuse, I’ll for- 
give you this time; but you must walk slowly 
for a little while ; I’ve had a regular race after 
you.” 

They walked on in silence for some distance ; 
at last. Aunt Effie asked if he had looked over 
the psalms and lessons for the day. 

“ Hot the psalms,” he replied ; “ but I know 
what the lessons are about. The first morning 
lesson tells us the law of the Jewish Pentecost, 
and the first evening lesson prophecies the con- 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


189 


version of the Gentiles to Christ, God’s Holy 
Spirit inspiring the Apostles. The second lessons 
teach us of the completion of these prophecies.” 

“ I am very glad that you remember them so 
well, dear Ned ; and now you should think, that 
as the Jews received their law from Mount Sinai, 
at the feast of Pentecost, so, by the descent of 
the Holy Ghost, the Apostles were empowered to 
preach to all Christians the new laws which our 
Saviour had given them. The psalms, too, are 
appropriate. Those in the morning tell of God’s 
care for His chosen City of J erusalem, and thank- 
ing Him for permitting men to meet together in 
service to Him. Had it not been for the inspira- 
tion of the holy Apostles, we should not have met 
together in God’s house to-day to praise Him for 
all His mercies to us. Then there is a prophetical 
description of Christ’s ascension ; and again, 
‘when the Lord gave the word, great was the 
company of the preachers,’ which almost seems 
to foretell the descent of the tongues of fire. 
The psalms for the evening speak to us of the 
miraculous works of the Holy Ghost, and declare 
His power.” 

“The Collect, Epistle, and Gospel for to-day. 


140 


WHITSUNTIDE 


and also those for Monday and Tuesday in Whit- 
sun week, are taken from the old liturgies of the 
Church.” 

‘‘ Last week, in the course of my reading about 
Whitsuntide, and the establishment of the Chris- 
tian religion, I could not help thinking how 
different were God’s w^ays from the ways of man.” 

‘‘ In what particular respect, Ned asked his 
aunt. 

“ God did not establish His religion by killing 
people in war, and burning their lands ; He sent 
His Spirit to the Apostles, the Spirit which Christ 
had called a Comforter. And .then I thought how 
Cromwell and the Puritans, instead of allowing 
God’s priests to reform whatever was amiss in 
the Church, took the matter in their own hands, 
and plundered God’s holy temples, and turned 
His priests away from their homes and families, 
and set up their own chosen preacher instead ! 
A queer way to establish religion, was it not?” 

“Yes, Ned; it is fearful to think of the sac- 
rilege they committed. Do you remember those 
verses in the seventy-fourth psalm, which seem 
so direct a prophecy of their sinful acts ?” Mrs. 
Howard repeated : 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


141 


“ ‘ But now they break down all the carved 
work thereof with axes and hammers. 

“ ‘ They have set fire upon thy holy places, 
and have defiled the dwelling-place of thy Name, 
even unto the ground.’ ” 

“ They may break down the stone and mortar 
of the churches,” murmured Ned, “ but they 
cannot destroy the holy Church itself, for Christ 
has promised to be with His priests till the end 
of the world. Isn’t it so. Aunt Effie ?” 

His aunt bowed her head, and replied, “ Yes ; 
for 

“ ‘ Still our Litanies ascend like incense, as before, 

And still we hold the one full faith Nicaea taught of yore.’ ” 


Relapsing into, silence, they hastened their 
walk, and soon came in sight of the village. 
Before long, the carriage overtook them ; James 
got out, assuring his brother and aunt that the 
rest of the walk to the church would do him 
good. Effie, too, jumped out, laughingly saying 
that she must take care of Ned, since Aunt Effie 
had Jamie to look after. 

“ That’s right, Euphie ; come with me through 
this last field ; leave the road to Aunt Effie and 


142 


WHITSUNTIDE 


Jem.” ^N^ed lifted his little sister over the fence, 
and, taking her hand, led her through the clover 
blossoms. At last they came to a mountain 
brook tumbling over pebbles, and shaded by 
green osiers. EflSe crossed the bridge, but Ked, 
who wanted a drink of water, leaned over a 
smooth rock, and put his face down to a little 
cup formed among the stones, and filled from a 
tiny waterfall: 

“ What a fairy cup you have, Ned,” said 
Efiie, looking down from the bridge. “ I wish 
I was thirsty. I’d have a drink, too.” 

“ Oh, it’s so cold and refreshing,” exclaimed 
her brother, raising his head. “ I wish I was 
a fish. I’d come and live in this little bowl.” 

“ Be careful, or w^e may have to fish you out 
as it is!” said James, wEo with Aunt Eifie had 
left the dusty road and followed Ned through 
the field. 

“No danger of that,” replied his brother, 
jumping up and brushing off the knees of his 
trowsers. “I advise you to come down from 
the bridge and follow my example. Now, Effie, 
we’ll leave these slow walkers, and travel on 
to church 1” 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


143 


“Yes, hurry, Ned, I want to stop at the 
Parsonage and leave my roses for Mr. Rivers.’* 
Away they went into the sunshine, leaving 
James and Mrs. Howard beneath the shady 
osiers. 

“ What are you thinking of. Aunt Effie ?” 
asked James. 

“And of wdiat are you thinking, Jem?” re- 
plied his aunt. “ You looked so sober.” 

James smiled, as he answered, “Seeing those 
young ones” — (it was well that the future sol- 
dier was out of hearing) — “run out into the sun- 
shine in that way, reminded me of some verses 
I learned a few days ago ; but you have not 
answered my question. Aunt Effie.” 

“I, too, was thinking of some lines which 
came' into m^i^ head when I saw Ned drink- 
ing from the brook.” 

“What a poetical vein our thoughts must be 
in!” exclaimed Jem. “Wait till I drink, and 
then you shall repeat them to me.” 

“ It is w’ell you have taken your drink,” said 
his aunt, as he rejoined her, “the lines are not 
very appropriate now that I look at your cheer- 
ful face ; nevertheless I will repeat them — 


144 


WHITSUNTIDE 


“ ‘ Thou bonnie wee well on the briest of the braie, 

While I stoop to thj bosom my thirst to allay, 

I will drink to the loved ones wbo come back nae mair. 

And my tears will but hallow thy bosom sae fair.’ ” 

“ Tliat is veiy pretty ; wliere did you find 
it?” asked James. 

“I don’t remember. Xow you must repeat 
the vei*ses you were thinking about.” 

“Certainly; I’ll try and recall them as we 
walk along. The title is — 

“ No Suiislimt i)ut tiatt a 

“ ‘ Out of mv first borne, warm and bright, 

I passed to the cold world’s lowering night; 

111 hath it ended, that well begun — 

Into the shadow, out of the sun! 

“ ‘ Out of my last home, dark and cold, 

I shall pass to the city whose streets are gold ; 

Well shall be ended that ill begun — 

Out of the shadow, into the sun !’ ” ^ 

“Tlie thoughts are beautifully expressed,” said 
Aunt Effie; “I’m glad that the sunshine and 
shadow, through which we have just passed, 
reminded you of them ; but there are the bells 
tolling, we must walk faster.” 

Tliey found Effie and !Ned waiting for tliem 
in the porch, so they all entered church to- 
gether. If the altar-cloth had appeared beau- 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


145 


tiful to the children when they saw Jeanie 
working upon it at home, it was doubly so now 
that they saw it placed upon the altar. Mr. 
Ruthven, who had not been told about it, 
seemed surprised when he looked towards the 
chancel ; but a glance at the faces of his chil- 
dren convinced him that they had had a hand 
in the change there. 

When church was out, he whispered to 
Jeanie, “ What has become of the new piano 
cover you wished to embroider last winter? 
Did I not give you money for the materials 
when we were in New York?” 

“Yes, papa,” she replied; “but James and 
Ned helped me to procure materials for some- 
thing we thought was more needed than a 
piano cover.” 

‘‘ I understand you, my dear child.” 

“ I hope you like it, father,” was her only 
reply. 

13 


146 


WHITSUNTIDE 


CHAPTER VII. 

“ Spirit of Christ — Thine earnest given 

That these our prayers are heard, and they 
Who grasp, this hour, the sword of Heaven, 

Shall feel Thee on their weary way.” 

Keble. 

In the afternoon, Mrs. Riithven remained at 
home with Jeanie, who was too tired to attend 
church. 

How lovely the day is,” murmured Jeanie to 
herself, as she drew the sofa to the opened win- 
dow of her bed-room, which trees shaded from 
the glare of sunlight, and cooled the rose-per- 
fumed breeze as it swept through their green 
branches. Sweet-briar, and queen-of-the-prairie 
roses, entwined in the ivy which crept up the 
side of the house near the window where Jeanie 
sat, and, as she threw aside the blind, a great 
cluster of these ilowei's thrust their deep pink 
buds into her hand. “ Ah, you naughty flowers. 


AT. CEDAR GROVE. 


147 


you deserve to be broken off, and placed in my 
vase ; but I’ll look at you for a little while. 
Stay there now she fastened them so that they 
hung over the window-sill, and rested on her lap. 

“ Who are you talking to ?” asked her mother, 
as she came into the room. 

“ To Euphie’s pets,” replied Jeanie. “ Just see 
these lovely roses, mamma.” 

Mrs. Ruthven sat down, and took the branch 
which Jeanie held out to her. “ These are from 
the bush which your father and I planted two 
years ago ; I can tell them from their perfume.” 

“ Why is it, mamma ? — the queen -of-the-prairie 
rose has hardly any perfume, but those are very 
sweet.” 

“We mingled the roots with those of a sweet- 
briar bush, and they must have divided their 
sweetness ; I cannot think of any other reason. 
Shall I read to you? or ydll you try to go to 
sleep before papa and the boys come home?” 

“I’ll try to sleep, mamma, for I want to feel 
rested enough to come down stairs this evening.” 
Her trial was unsuccessful, and, after keeping 
her eyes closed for a long time without sleeping, 
she gave up the attempt. “ I wish you had the 


148 


WHITSUNTIDE 


sermon Mr. Rivers preached this morning, he 
showed so fully the office of the third person of 
the Holy Trinity, the Holy Ghost, the Comforter.” 

‘‘I should like to hear it again,” replied her 
mother, ‘‘ there were so many thoughts grouped 
together, it was difficult to follow them all ; 
Jamie spoke of it coming out of church, and said 
he had learned a gKeat deal from it.” 

‘‘Red,” said Jeanie, ‘‘told me he had tried to 
remember all of the sermon, but I found that 
he had forgotten the greater part.” 

“ Poor Red cannot understand the meaning 
of the word ‘ moderation he attempts too much ; 
yet Jem tells me that he has made a very good 
condensation of the subject of Whit-Sunday for 
us this evening.” 

“0! that reminds me,” exclaimed Jeanie, “I 
promised him I would find something about the 
observance of the Whit-Sunday service in the 
Spanish and early British Church.” Her mother 
gave her the book for which she asked. After 
turning over the leaves for some time, she found 
the account. “ See here, mamma, presents of 
roses were formerly made on Whit-Sunday ; I 
think I must break off and keep that cluster of 


AT CEDAR GROVE.- 


149 


buds which presented themselves to me this 
afternoon. She read on in silence for some 
time, and then marking the page of the book, 
laid it aside^ for her brother. 

‘‘ Did you find the ‘ observance ’ you wanted 
asked her mother. 

“ Yes, but not so full an account as I saw a 
few days ago. In Spain, during service on Whit- 
Sunday, small birds with cakes tied to their legs, 
and pigeons, were let loose ; sometimes tame 
white ones were tied with strings, or one of 
wood was suspended in the chancel, and a long 
censer was swung up and down before it. In the 
British Church, while the ‘ Y eni Creator ’ was 
being sung, oak leaves, unconsecrated wafers, and 
burning tow, was thrown from the ceiling before 
the crucifix. At the ‘ Gloria in Excelsis,’ small 
birds and pigeons were allowed to fly : this con- 
tinued until mass, and did not, cease until the 
Gospel had been said.” 

“ How unnecessary such things seem to us,” 
remarked her mother, “ I might almost say pro- 
fane ; but when we remember it was done to teach 
the ignorant, and remind the forgetful, we can 
understand and respect such rude teachings.” 

13 * 


150 


WHITSUNTIDE 


Mrs. Ruthven had but just ceased speaking, 
when the sound of voices warned them that the 
family had returned from church. In a few 
moments Hed knocked at the door of the room, 
and entered, followed by Efiie, Harry and James. 
“How’s the sick girl?” was Jem’s first question. 

“ O ! she’s been taking medicine !” exclaimed 
Effie, catching sight of a half empty wine-glass. 

Hed lifted it, and, after putting it to his lips, 
cried out, ‘ O, mamma, I’m so sick ! Please 
give me some of this medicine.” 

“ It’s like paregoric,” said Harry. 

“ I don’t believe it’s as good,” remarked Effie. 

“ If you talk so much, poor J eanie will not 
have a chance of answering my question,” said 
James. 

They immediately became silent ; Hed, how- 
ever, kept rubbing his chest as if in great pain. 
This made the others laugh, so his mother told 
him to take the medicine, and be quiet. 

“Was it paregoric?” asked Harry, smelling 
of the glass. 

“ Ho, Harry, it was port-wine,” replied Jeanie. 
“I feel much better, Jem; but I hardly think 
we’ll try the coal road again to-morrow !” 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


151 


“ O, iiiainma ! I forgot to tell you Mr. Elvers 
is down stairs ; lie has come to take tea with us,” 
said Effie. 

“ What shall I do, Jeanie?” exclaimed Ned, as 
his mother left the room ; “ papa has been telling 
Mr. Elvers that I have collected an account of 
Whitsuntide, and asked him to come and hear 
me read it to-night ; I shall be frightened out of 
my wits !” 

“What a fearful fright it will be,” rejoined his 
sister ; “ it will take nearly sixty seconds to put 
all your wits to flight !” 

“ O, Jeanie ! you’re too bad,” said Ned, laugh- 
ing ; “ I don’t really mean what I say, but you 
know — well, you know if I should make a mis- 
take, he would almost eat me, he’s so partic- 
ular.” 

“That’s as much as to say he would swallow 
all mistakes,” returned Jeanie. 

Ned threw a sofa cushion at her ; but James, 
with a very grave face, said, “You needn’t be 
afraid of him, Ned ; it’s nearly a week since he 
eat a boy of your size !” 

“I think you’re all talking nonsense,” re- 
marked Effie. “ Come, Harry, let us go down 


152 


WHITSUNTIDE 


in the garden, and see Mr. Eivers.” Away the 
two children ran. 

“ Our idle words have received a just rebuke,” 
said Jeanie ; we should be more careful, boys.” 

‘‘It was my fault,” said Ned, “for I began the • 
nonsense ; but I’ll try to remember in future.” 

“ We’ll all try,” added James ; “ and now, let 
us go down to the garden.” 

Jeanie smoothed her hair, and followed her 
brothers to the piazza, where the family had 
assembled. Harry and Mr. Eivers were sitting 
out on the lawn ; Effie was standing before them, 
seeming deeply interested in their conversation. 

“ What part of the sermon was it to which you 
refer ?” asked Mr. Rivers, im. answer to a question 
from Harry. 

“It was near the beginning, I think; some- 
thing about Christ’s fighting for us, and His 
ascension being His triumph.” 

“And I liked that part of your sermon this 
afternoon,” joined in Effie, “for it reminded me 
of a picture in the history Aunt Effie teaches 
me, where a general is throwing presents to the 
people after the victory.” 

“ Ah, now I know the part to which you 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


153 


refer, children ; but let me remind you what 
I said before reading the sermon ; it was not 
my own, it was one of Bishop Sparrow’s up- 
on Whitsuntide. I think this is something 
like the passage you wished me to repeat, 
Harry. 

“ On this day God sent His Holy Spirit a 
security for our future peace. The devil had 
taken ns captive, so Jesus undertook to regain 
us. His death was His battle, for then He 
seemed overcome; but He got up again at His 
resurrection, which was His victory. His as- 
cension was His triumph, and as ancient con- 
querors flung about them gifts on the last day 
of their triumph, so Christ gave His Spirit — 
to some, power of casting out devils ; to others 
gifts of healing, gifts of faith, of knowledge, 
working of miracles, prophesies, and interpreta- 
tion of tongues ; therefore, in honor of these 
gifts of His Holy Spirit, we keep this day 
holy.” 

“Thank you; that is the part Effie and I 
liked,” said Harry. “How, Mr. Kivers, I want 
to ask you another question. “ Is Whitsun-week 
kept as a festival like Easter?” 


154 


WHITSUNTIDE 


“Monday and Tuesday are festivals,” replied 
the Kector; “but Wednesday, Thursday and 
Friday are observed as fasts, because they are 
Ember days.” 

The children looked puzzled. “We don’t 
quite understand about Ember days,” added 
Harry. 

“ Perhaps Miss Jeanie will tell us something 
of them,” said Mr. Kivers, for he saw her com- 
ing with her brothers towards the place where 
they sat. 

“I have come to tell you that tea is ready,” 
she answered ; “ is that what you were wishing 
to know ?” 

“ Hot exactly ; Effie and Harry were asking 
the meaning of Ember days, and I wished you 
to tell them its signihcation.” 

“You know why the Church has appointed 
these days, Harry?” said Jeanie, turning to her 
little cousin. 

“Yes,” he replied; “they are days of fasting 
and prayer for a blessing upon those who are 
to be ordained, just as the Apostles fasted and 
prayed before they laid their hands upon those 
whom they ordained.” 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


155 


“ You are quite right, my boy,” said Mr. 
Eivers. “At the first planting of the Gospel, 
orders were conferred at any time as occasion 
required, but as the Church became more set- 
tled, ordination was appointed at certain set 
times; this was the origin of these days of 
fasting.” 

“ But they don’t all come together like 
Lent ?” asked Efiie, as she took Jem’s hand and 
went towards the house. 

“ Oh, no, Euphie. At the Council of Pla- 
centia, in the year 1095, the Ember seasons 
were arranged in the following order : the 
Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, after the 
first Sunday in Lent ; the next, after Whit- 
Sunday; the third, after the fourteenth of Sep- 
tember, then observed as the feast of the Holy 
Cross ; and the last, after the thirteenth of 
December, about the time of the third Sun- 
day in Advent.” 

Harry, who had taken his cousin Jem’s other 
hand, now asked him why they we're called 
Ember days. So he told him that the early 
Christians at seasons of fasting were accustomed 
to show their humiliation by sprinkling ashes 


156 


WHITSUNTIDE 


on their heads, and their food on these days 
was ‘ ember bread,’ or cakes baked on embers, 
so some writers supposed this to be the origin 
of the name. By this time they reached the 
piazza; but Mr. Rivers with Jeanie and I^ed 
were still some distance from the house. They, 
too, were talking about the Ember days. The 
Rector had asked Ned if he could think of 
some reasons why it was necessary to observe 
these days.” 

“ I can only think of one,” he replied, 
“ and that is because we all want good and 
faithful ministers, so we ought to pray that 
those ordained by our Bishops will faithfully 
perform their vows.” ^ 

“You could not have found a better rea- 
son,” said the Rector. “Now, Miss Jeanie, can 
you help your brother?” 

She hesitated a few moments, and then an- 
swered, “ Tlie observance of these days serve 
to remind our Bishops how careful they should 
be whom they ordain, and they remind the 
candidates to fit themselves for the solemn du- 
ties to which they are to be admitted.” 

“And I will give you still another reason,” 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


157 


added the Rector. ‘‘You know that all ordina- 
tions are held in church, at which time the 
Bishop charges the people assembled, if they 
know of any impediment or crime for the which 
the candidate ought not to be received into the 
holy ministry, to come forward and show what 
that impediment is. Therefore the people, know- 
ing the time of ordinations, may be present if 
they choose, to object against those whom they 
know to be unworthy.” 

As they were entering the door of the house, 
they met James coming towards them with a 
little table, Elbe and Harry following with simi- 
lar burdens. “ Mamma will send our tea out 
here on the piazza,” said Effie ; “ it is pleasanter 
than the parlor.” 

“And here comes Aunt Effie to see that we 
behave ourselves,” added James, at the same 
time placing a chair for her. “ Here, Aunt 
Effie, if you’ll act like a good child you shall 
sit at my table.” 

“ I’m going to sit by Mr. Rivers,” exclaimed 
Red, suiting the action to the word. 

“ And I, too,” said Effie, running to the other 

side of the Rector. 

14 


158 


WHITSUNTIDE 


‘‘ Where will you put me, Mr. Kivers ?” asked 
Harry very piteously. 

“ Unless you are more quiet in settling your- 
selves, my children, I shall send for Mr. Kivere 
to come and help me to pour out tea,” said 
Mrs. Ruthven looking out from the parlor win- 
dow. 

“ Don’t blame tliem^ Mrs. Euthven,” replied ; 
the Hector smiling, “ for I am the cause of all 
the noise. Here, Effie, you shall sit before me 
on this footstool; Hariy and Ned come beside i 
me, so Miss Jeanie may have her table all to 
herself.” j 

After tea Mrs. Huthven came out on the ’ 
piazza. A more cheerful party could not well be \ 
imagined than that which was assembled there. 
Smiles and happy faces were seen on every side: 
no loud talking or foolish jesting disturbed 
the calm stillness of the closing Whit-Sunday ; 

— then, when shadows lengthened upon the lawn, 
when the last crimson cloud took its purple 
hue, Jeanie and her mother commenced that 
exquisite hymn, Softly now the light of day.” . 
All the children joined with them, and the deep • 
feeling with which they sang the words, added 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


159 


to the prayerful beauty of the hymn. 'Nor did 
they omit that glorious doxology, 


“Holy Father, holy Son, 

Holy Spirit, Three in One! 
Glory, as of old to Thee, 

Now, and evermore shall be!" 


But with louder and more exultant tone they 
awoke tlie far off echoes, and as they uttered 
the last line the rocks on the lake shore sent 
back the words “ evermore shall be !” 

The dew began to fall, and then they return- 
ed to the parlor, where the lamps were lighted. 
James, without consulting his brother, had laid 
ITed’s portfolio on the table so there should 
be no delay, when Mr. E-uthven asked his son 
to read his “ Whitsuntide.” l^ed looked rather 
bashful as he opened the portfolio, but the 
feeling soon passed away; for when Mr. Kivers 
caught sight of the long manuscript, he good- 
naturedly exclaimed, with an expression of sur- 
prise, “ Why, my boy ! had 1 known that so 
learned a young gentleman as yourself was my 
auditor to-day, I fear I should have been a 
little frightened in preaching before you.” 

This made Effie laugh, but Ned replied, “ I’m 


160 


WHITSUNTIDE 


only a boy yet, Mr. Elvers; Tm not quite six- 
teen years old; of course your can’t expect me 
to write as well, and know as mucli, as your- 
self and papa.” 

“ Harry, don’t tell your cousin,” said the Hec- 
tor in a loud whisper so that all might hear, 
“ but I know somebody twice sixteen years old 
who hasn’t got half as much written about 
Whitsuntide as Master Hed there !” 

Thus encouraged, Hed was soon sufficiently 
himself to commence. He read on without in- 
terruption to the closing sentence, which was 
this : “ Year after year, our holy Church, dur- 
ing the sadness of Passion week, calls to our 
minds the promise which our blessed Saviour 
made to His disciples, and to listen to His 
prayer, not only for Himself, but for all those 
who shall believe in Him through their word. 
On Good Friday we are reminded of His fear- 
ful agony and death; when Easter dawns we 
Welcome with gladness His glorious resurrection 
— and again, after forty days are passed, we as- 
semble to remember in prayer and praise His 
ascension to God’s right hand. But the Church 
does not leave us here. By the confusion of 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


161 


tongues at Babel, men lost the religion which 
God had given from Mount Sinai, and they be- 
came idolaters ; but at Pentecost, God’s Holy 
Spirit, the Spirit of Truth which our Saviour 
had promised, descended in the shape of fiery 
tongues upon the Apostles, giving them knowl- 
edge to speak to all nations, teaching them 
God’s new law, and proclaiming to all the 
world one Lord, one Faith, one Baptism, which 
shall endure throughout eternity.” 

Mrs. Buthven had been leaning over her 
son’s chair as he read the last few lines, and 
now, when he ceased, she bent down and kissed 
the handsome forehead which he raised to her 
lips. ‘‘ I can’t get over my old fashion of 
making mamma kiss me when I’ve tried to be 
a good boy,” he said. 

“ And you have been a good boy, my Ed- 
ward,” said Mr. Kuthven. “The moments of 
pleasure which you denied yourself to spend 
in writing what you have just read are not 
lost ; every returning Whitsuntide you will re- 
member them, and one of these days when 
you have no father here on earth, you will 
14 * 


162 


WHITSUNTIDE 


think with joy of the great happiness yon have 
caused me to-night.” 

Poor Ned was so unaccustomed to hear his 
father praise him, and speak in this tone, that 
something very like tears rushed to his eyes. 
“ Oh, father,” were the only words he said, 
and immediately left the room. 

‘‘ He has certainly shown himself in a new 
light to me,” said Mr. Pi vers. ‘‘ I have been 
very much gratified to-night; I never thought 
he had sufficient application to bend his mind 
to one subject as he seems to have done to 
this.” 

Ned did not hear Jeanie and James follow 
him, for he ran up to his room, and, sitting 
down on the bed, murmured to himself in 
broken sentences, “Goosey, goosey, Ned, to cry 
like a baby ; I could not help it though, father 
spoke so soberly, as if he were going to die; 
then Aunt Effie looked so kindly at me, and 
— who’s that ?” he suddenly exclaimed, start- 
ing up, as he became aware that some one 
was in his room. 

“ Only us,” replied Jeanie, running up and 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


163 


putting her arms about him. “Jem and I came 
to see why you left the parlor so quickly.” 

“Yes, Ned,” added his brother, “you didn’t 
give us time to compliment you on your lec- 
ture.” 

“Nonsense, Jem,” he replied, half smiling; 
“ only it felt so funny to be called a good boy 
that it frightened me out of laughing; so I 
cried for the sake of doing something un- 
usual!” • 

“ There, you old pet, don’t cry any more,” 
said Jeanie, kissing his eyelids. “Come* down 
in the library ; we’re going to try some new 
chants, and must have your tenor.” 

“Now wash your face by way of doing some- 
thing else unusual,” continued James ; “ cherry- 
colored eyes are not becoming!” 

“ Hush !” exclaimed his sister, didn’t we 
agree not to talk nonsense this afternoon?” 

“ Ah, I’m afraid we didn’t calculate how hard 
it would be to change our natures,” sighed 
Jem. 

“ Speak for yourself,” retorted Jeanie. “ Now, 
good-bye; I hear mother already at the or- 
gan.” 


164 


WHITSUNTIDE 


The evening was passed, as Sunday evenings 
usually were at Cedar Grove, in singing hymns 
until ten o’clock, when Mr. Eivers said ‘‘good- 
night.” Mr. Euthven urged him to stay un- 
til morning, hut he declined, so ITed went to 
order the carriage. He had not long been 
gone from the room before he returned and 
motioned to his father to join him. “ Please 
come down in the hall, papa,” he whispered 
hurriedly, “I am sure I smell wood burning.” 

Hed was right. By the time Mr. Euthven 
reached the hall, it was filled with smoke. 
The parlor door was open, still there was no 
sign of fire there ; he walked to the end of 
the hall and threw open the dining-room door. 
Thick clouds of black smoke came rolling out, 
while bright red fiames glimmered through it. 
The servants, who were sitting in the kitchen 
beyond the dining-room, and divided from it 
by a narrow passage, had also noticed the 
smoke; and just as Mr. Euthven opened the 
door from the front hall, they had opened the 
opposite door. Their screams immediately 
alarmed the family, who were talking in the 
library; but before they could get down, Hed, 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


165 


with great presence of mind, darted up there, 
exclaiming, as cheerfully as possible, “ Don’t be 
frightened, mother, only the dining-room is on 
fire !” Mr. Rivers and Jem ran down stairs ; 
the others would have followed, but JS’ed held 
them back, saying, ‘‘ Mother, Jeanie, and Aunt 
Efiie, bring down all the water pitchers, we 
may want them. Harry and Euphie, you col- 
lect all the blankets off the beds — don’t be 
frightened, only be quick.” 

Notwithstanding his words, their hearts beat 
quickly, for the smoke was spreading through 
the whole house, and, as yet, they could not dis- 
cover in what part of the room the fire was. 
James went outside of the house, round into the 
kitchen, to quiet the servants, and make them 
obey him, if possible. Davys brought the small 
engine from the green-house, and, under Jem’s 
direction, placed it so as to play upon the flames, 
which seemed extending towards the kitchen. To 
prevent a draft, Mr. Ruthven closed the door 
leading to the front hall, but not before Mr. 
Rivers and Ned had made their way into the 
dining-room upon their hands and knees. 

They discovered the fire entii*ely upon the 


166 


WHITSUNTIDE 


opposite side of the room. The silver !” ex- 
claimed Ned, suddenly. “ Look, Mr. Eivers, the 
side-board is on fire.’^ 

“Keep as near the ground as possible, my 
boy,” said the Rector, in a calm voice, “ or you 
will be stifled. Where is the silver kept ?” 

“Laws! old Tim’s got ’er silber all safe three 
minutes ago !” replied a well-known voice near 
them, coughing and choking from the smoke. 

“ Where are you, Tim ?” asked Ned, groping 
in the direction of the voice. “ O, Tim, you’re 
burning ! I smell woolen !” 

“ I’s not woolen. Master Ned. It’s only the 
ironing blanket I’s got round me to smudder ’er 
fire like 1” 

“ Which side shall I throw the water ?” called 
Jem, from the kitchen door. 

“To ’er right, under der shelf for der silber 
tea-pots,” by which name Tim designated the 
side-board. 

The water came dashing in that direction, but 
the small stream was of no avail, for the floor 
and the wainscoting had burned to a cinder, and 
flames were creeping up and clinging to the fur- 
niture, and the paper on the wall. “ Creep to 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


167 


the door, 17ed, and pass along buckets of water ; 
Tim and I will fling it on the floor and walls, 
while Davjs will continue throwing water on 
other parts of the room, to prevent the flames 
from extending.” 

Harry and Effie, who had finished collecting 
the blankets, were now in the kitchen. James 
stationed himself at the pump, and Jeanie, with 
the four women servants, passed along the water 
pails as fast as they were filled, while Mrs. 
Huthven, Aunt Eflie, and the children, placed 
themselves so as to return them when empty. 
Mr. Ruthven and Davj^s did their best to keep 
the fire from spreading ; but the smoke was so 
dense, it was some time before they perceived 
that they made any headway. 

After half an hour’s steady work, the flames 
were extinguished, and Tim, having procured 
an ax, cut away the burned floor, and drenched 
the remnants of the beams beneath with water. 
In an hour’s time, all danger was over. 

Then James and Hed employed themselves 
in clearing the room of the remaining furniture, 
while Mrs. Kuthven and Mrs. Howard opened 
all the doors and windows to air the house. 


168 


WHITSUNTIDE 


Poor Jeanie, as soon as the excitement of being 
compelled to work was over, tottered into the 
parlor, but sank fainting to the floor before she 
could reach the sofa. Ejfle, who had never seen 
a person faint, thought her sister was dying, for 
she screamed, ‘‘Mamma, mamma, papa, Jamie, 
Jeanie is dead ; oh, she’s dead ! Efiie’ll die, 
too !” Down knelt the little creature on the 
floor, and took her sister’s head in her lap. 

Her screams brought James and Hed. “ She 
has fainted !” they exclaimed ; and Hed rushed 
back to the hall, and, catching up a pail, dashed 
the water into Jeanie’s face. For a moment, 
Effie was too indignant to speak, but, at last, 
she exclaimed, “ You shan’t hurt her, because 
she’s dead !” and then she threw her little arms 
around her sister, and called again for her 
mother. 

This time her cries brought her father and 
Mr. Pivers. Jeanie, too, opened her eyes, and 
tried to stand up ; but she fell back, and fainted 
again. James and his father carried her to the 
sofa ; ISTed brought hartshorn, and Harry ran 
to the kitchen for more water. Effie, still sob- 
bing violently, started to And “mamma,” but 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


169 


Mr. Rivers caught her in his arms, and ex- 
plained that Jeanie had only fainted ; then he 
took her to the side of the sofa, where she might 
watch until her sister recovered. hTo sooner 
did he place her on the floor, however, than she 
darted into the buttery, and, breaking off a 
piece of cake, flew back to the parlor. “Here, 
Jeanie, take this! It’s sponge cake!” she ex- 
claimed, in triumph. “ I’m sure you’re dead, if 
you don’t eat it.” 

It was impossible to refrain from laughing; 
even Jeanie, who had opened her eyes, smiled. 
Effie was- so delighted with the success of her 
remedy, that the others would not undeceive 
her; and when mamma came down stairs, Effie 
gave her a graphic account of Jeanie’s fainting 
flt, and how the sight of a piece of cake had 
cured her. 

“We shall all faint, mamma, unless we have 
something to eat,” said Hed. “ In Hew York 
all good Christian people give their firemen a 
supper after they put out the Are ; I think the 
Cedar Grove firemen ought to fare as well!” 

“Supper will be ready in a very few mo- 
ments,” answered his father. “You had better 
15 


170 


WHITSUNTIDE 


say ‘good night,’ dear Jeanie,” he continued, 
“ mamma will send you something to eat.” 

“ Let me act as a crutch for your ladyship,” 
said Ned offering his arm. 

“ I suppose it wouldn’t be kind in me to say 
that you’re such a poor stick that’s all ^^ou’re 
fit for,” interposed James. 

“ Not unless you want to be caned to-mor- 
row,” returned Ned. 

“ Nobody shall be ‘ caned’ on my birtli-day,” 
said Effie. 

“ Oh !” burst from all the children. “ Why, 
Euphie, we had forgotten that it was your birth- 
day ! You’ll have to take eight little slaps on 
your fat little shoulders,” said Jem. 

“ Oh, I’ll take payment in kisses ; wait till 
it’s lights to-morrow morning,” she added, as 
James pointed to the clock ; it was after one. 
“ I don’t want my birth-day to begin till day- 
light.” 

“ I shall see you at breakfast, Mr. Elvers,” 
said Jeanie as she bid him good-night. 

“ Yes, I will accept your father’s invitation 
to remain here ; besides, I shall be interested 
not onl}^ in learning the cause of the fire, but 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


171 


in seeing Effie receive the eight slaps from you 
all !” 

“ Oh, how cruel you are !” said the little girl, 
ril stay up in the nursery until they promise 
to give me kisses, and perhaj^s I won’t invite 
you to my picnic to-morrow. 'Now, mamma, 
only let me have some bread and milk, and I 
will go to bed, too.” 

“ Come here, Effie,” called Mrs. Howard over 
the banisters. “ I have some up here for you.” 

“ It has been a long Whit-Sunday to us, my 
children,” said Mr. Ruthven as he kissed his 
daughters good-night. “ It might have been 
a very sad one, but Ned’s thoughtfulness called 
attention to the fire in time, while James not 
only exerted himself, but by his example cheer- 
ed us all. And, Jeanie,” her father took^ her 
hand, “ you did not wait to be told what to 
do, as you would have done two years ago, 
the servants relied upon your judgment, for 
they saw that you relied upon yourself. This 
fire has been but a small matter in comparison 
to what it might have been, but it has served 
to show me how much improvement you have 
made in overcoming your chief faults.” 


172 


WHITSUNTIDE 


CHAPTER VIII. 

“When first our scanty years are told, 

It seems like pastime to grow old.” 

Mooee. 

What caused the fire? This question was 
eagerly discussed at the breakfast table, but 
for a long time no clue could be discovered. 
“ Who was in the room last ?” asked Mr. 
Ruthven. “Where were the matches? Was 
there any paper left near a candle ?’’ 

“ I can answer all those questions,” said Mrs. 
Ruthven. “I put out all of the lights myself, 
for I was the last in the room. The matches 
were in the stone match-safe on the mantle- 
piece ; there was no paper — ” she paused ; 
“ yes, there was ; while pouring out tea for 
you, I was looking over ‘The Church Journal,’ 
and when I went to put away the silver, I 
left it on the side-board; but I blew out all 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


173 


the candles, so Fm sure no sparks could have 
fallen on it.” 

“ Please, ma’am,” interposed Katie the 
waitress, “but Tim was a tellin’ us this morn- 
ing how that the tea-kittle was all a-fire last 

night when he fetched it to the kitchen, and 
he blowed the light out, for he said he didn’t 
see the use of havin’ more nor one fire 

a-going at a time.” 

Mrs. Kuthven turned very pale, “ Oh, 
James !” she exclaimed, looking at her hus- 

band. 

“ Why, mamma, what’s the matter ?” ex- 
claimed all the children. 

“ It is all my fault,” she replied hurriedly, 
“ all my own carelessness. I forgot to put out 
the little spirit-lamp when I placed the kettle 
on the side-board, and the paper was so near 
it!” 

“Then you are the incendiary,” replied Mr. 
Euthven, with a smile. “.Well, I’m glad our 
loss is so slight, and glad, too, that we have 
discovered the origin of the fire.” 

“ Oh, it was such shameful carelessness in 
me !” she continued. “I must be careful how 
15 * 


174 


WHITSUNTIDE 


I blame your thoughtlessness in future, dear 
JSTed. 

“ I don’t mean to require any more blame 
for that. If it was your thoughtlessness that 
caused the fire, father said last night that my 
thoughtfulness discovered it in time; so you see 
we only changed thoughts for a while.” 

“ Mother isn’t comforted yet,” said James, 
glancing at his mother’s face. “Indeed, mam- 
ma, we’ve lost nothing of value.” 

His mother shook her head, and pointed to 
a picture which was leaning against thq wall. 
“ Our ‘ Gainsborough’ is scorched and blackened 
beyond hope of restoration.” 

“ I had forgotten that, mamma,” replied 
James; “however, we’ll pass it off for one of 
the ‘ old masters ;’ Hed and I will make a 
worm-eaten wood frame, and Jeanie can var- 
nish it and put a dark brown shade over the 
foreground, and — ” 

“And you are talking nonsense, dear Jem,” 
said Jeanie. “ I am so sorry that that picture 
is burned ; I cannot make fun of it. We can 
never get another like it.” 

“Never mind,” interposed Effie, looking at 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


175 


her mother and Jeanie, “ we can look out of the 
window, and see the live moolie cows lying 
down in the field, just like those in the picture, 
and they are prettier than painted moolie cows, 
too ! And, mamma, if you were a little girl 
like me, with nothing to think about, you would 
have remembered the light ; but you have so 
many things to keep in your mind, that I should 
think you would forget half of them.” 

“Euphie never blames any one; she has an 
excuse for everybody,” said Ked. 

“ Yes, I do blame sometimes ; I blame you 
now for not filling my bowl with milk ; see, it’s 
all gone.” 

“ What is the order for the day ?” asked Aunt 
Effie of James, as they left the breakfast table. 
“ I presume we are all going to church this 
morning ; if so, is it not time for the walking 
party to set out?” 

“ I believe we must all be a ‘ walking party ’ 
to-day,” he replied, “ for Tim has driven to Dale 
Hill to bring carpenters and masons to repair 
the dining-room. Jeanie, however, will drive 
to church with father, and when service is 
over, Tim wnll meet us, and take us to Bash- 


176 


WHITSUNTIDE 


Bish Falls, where Euphie has decided to hold 
her birth-daj picnic.” 

Mrs. Kuthven and the Eector had started for 
the village immediately after breakfast ; James, 
Effie, and Harry were the fii’st to follow them. 
“How, Jamie,” began his little sister, “you 
must tell me all about that game of the Lettuce 
King, which you were going to explain to us 
on Saturday night, only you didn’t come home.” 

“ Certainly, Euphie ; but the story I prom- 
ised to tell you, I will keep until this afternoon, 
when we’re out in the woods. Perhaps we can 
try the game, or something like it.” 

“But I don’t know what it is,” she replied. 

“Then I will tell you. Harry, do you know 
where Thuringia is?” 

“ Yes ; in Germany. Mother has often told 
me stories of the forests of Thuringia, and the 
Castle of Wartburg, where Luther made his 
translation of the Bible.” 

“ Thuringia is now included in the Duchy of 
Saxe-Weimer-Eisenach,” continued James. For- 
merly, it was the custom on the third and last 
day of Whitsuntide, for one of the young peas- 
^ ants to allow his companions to conceal him, 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


177 


bj decking him with green boughs, and, after 
placing him upon a horse, to lead him before 
the ‘Schulze,’ or Mayor, who was allowed to 
guess three times w^ho the concealed person 
was. If he failed to guess correctly, he was 
obliged to forfeit a quantity of beer; and even 
if he succeeded, he was obliged to give it to 
the ‘ green man,’ or ‘ Lettuce King,’ as he was 
called, as a thank-offering for his success.” 

“ O ! that wasn’t fair,” said Harry. 

“Hever mind, Harry,” rejoined Effie, “per- 
haps he gave them bad beer; anyway, I guess 
they had fun. Tell us something more, Jamie.” 
But before her brother could reply, some fringed 
gentian attracted her attention, and she ran off 
to the margin of the swamp to gather it. 

Jeanie almost repented of her decision to ride 
to church, as she stood on the piazza, waiting for 
her father. “It is such a charming morning to 
walk!” she exclaimed, as the carriage came to 
the door. 

“You will find climbing to Eagle’s Hest, at 
Bash-Bish, quite enough for you,” said her 
father. “It would never do to be too tired to 
enjoy Effie’s picnic this afternoon.” 


178 


WHITSUNTIDE 


“ I had quite forgotten that ; well, riding isn’t 
so bad, after all,” she added, as the horses 
started on a brisk trot, and whirled the little 
carriage over the smooth road. “ Don’t upset 
me, papa, as you did in our sleigh-ride, last 
year ; snow and dirt are different substances to 
fall upon.” 

“No danger, Jeanie,” replied her father; and 
see how soft the grass looks.” 

“ And how smooth the rocks are. But look 
on the meadows, father ; are not the cloud- 
shadows beautiful?” 

“ Whenever w^e have a day like this, I am 
reminded of those lines by George Herbert: — 

“ ‘ Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright. 

The bridal of the earth and sky; 

The dew shall weep thy fall to-night, 

For thou must die.’” 

“I remember the whole of that little poem,” 
answered Jeanie ; “but it is so sad, papa, to 
think that every thing pleasant and beautiful 
must die.” 

“ But it is not sad to think of those pleasant 
things in the beautiful heaven above us, which 
we hope to enjoy.” 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


179 


“ If we only become ‘ children of light,’ as 
the Gospel for to-day teaches,” said Jeanie 
thoughtfully. 

“ By baptism, my daughter, you were made 
a child of light, and at confirmation you re- 
ceived those gifts of grace which will enable 
you to overcome the world, and finally to in- 
herit the life eternal for which God gave His 
only Son. But this sacrament and rite will not 
save you, unless you carefully keep the vows 
therein imposed. Some other time I will speak 
of this subject to you; for I see we are near 
the village, and I wish to ask you questions 
about the lessons for to-day. Have you read 
them, Jeanie?” 

“Those for the morning, papa. The first lesson 
is about the confusion of tongues; the second 
tells us the different gifts of the Spirit, and 
reminds us how we are all members of Christ.” 

“ The first evening lesson is the one to which 
I wished more particularly to call your atten- 
tion : it is an account of the descent of the 
Holy Spirit upon the seventy elders of Israel, 
so that they might have wisdom to assist Moses 
in governing the people, thereby prefiguring the 


180 


WHITSUNTIDE 


descent on the Apostles, showing that the care 
of the Church was not to lie all on one per- 
son.” 

“ How much trouble it must have been to 
the compilers of our liturgy to arrange appro- 
priate lessons for the different holy days,” said 
Jeanie. 

“Hot only the Lessons, but the Collects, Gos- 
pels and Epistles. Take the Gospel for to-morrow 
as an instance ; as this is one of the Ember- 
weeks, we have the parable of those good 
shepherds who, entering their sheep-folds through 
the door, know and call their sheep by name, 
while those who enter by any other way are 
thieves and robbers. Christ is that door through 
which His priests are admitted into His Church, 
and to their care the great Shepherd and Bishop 
of our souls comits us His children. We are 
the sheep unto which the Good Shepherd must 
grant protection, till He leads us into those safe 
green pastures and still w’aters of our peaceful 
home.” 

As Mr. Euthven ceased speaking, they reach- 
ed the church. James helped his sister from 
the carriage, and they wandered about the 


CEDAR GROVE. 


181 


churcli-yard, with Effie and Harry, until the 
bells began tolling. 

The children were very quiet during church 
time, but as soon as service was ended, Euphie 
followed Harry and Hed into the road where 
Tim was waiting for them. “ Did Biddy give 
you the baskets V' was Hed’s first question. The 
next moment he caught sight of them, and, pull- 
ing them out from under the seat, tried to lift 
the covers. 

“ Old Tim tied ’em down — Biddy was affeard 
Master Hed would eat all ’ee feed.” The old 
man laughed at Hed’s disappointed face. 

“Hever mind,” he exclaimed, “I only hope 
she has put in a dozen hard-boiled eggs for 
me!” 

“ It isn’t civil to think what you’re going 
to get to eat when you go to a party,” said 
Effie, holding herself very straight, and trying 
to keep a very dignified look ; “ unless you stop- 
trying to see my dinner. I’ll say ‘Sister Euphie 
will not be happy to see brother Hed, on her 
birth-day, at the Falls of Bash-Bish.’ ” 

“ Why has my little pet got her curly head 
perched on one side ?” asked James, lifting his 
16 


182 


WHITSUNTIDE . 


little sister into the wagon, and without wait- 
ing for an answer, he continued : “ Now, my 

little woman, who do you want to be your com- 
panions in our ride 

“ Mamma and every body,” said Effie, look- 
ing around ; then a sorrowful expression came 
over her face — “I don’t know who to leave 
out to go with papa.” 

“ Papa has decided for himself,” said her 
father coming up to the wagon ; “ Aunt Effie 
will ride with me, and Harry, too, if he wishes.” 

But Effie insisted that Harry should sit be- 
tween Ned and herself ; while Jeanie took the 
back seat with her mother, and James in front 
with Tim. Thus seated, they started towards 
Bash-Bish. ‘‘ Pm glad I’m not with papa,” said 
Effie. “Just see how fast he is driving,” she 
exclaimed, pointing to her father’s wagon which 
was nearly out of sight. 

““Here, Dash! Dash!” — ^Ned and Jem com- 
menced whistling, for the dog, as if following 
the direction of Effie’s finger, had darted at full 
spead after Mr. Ruthven. The whistling re- 
called him, and then Ned charged him not to 
try another race with ‘Fox’ and ‘ Pipton.’ 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


183 


“A piece of advice which I hope he will 
mind,” added James; “he should remember that 
horse-racing, not dog-racing, was a favorite pas- 
time among the English noblemen during the 
Whitsuntide holidays. You see I could not 
help dragging in a little piece of information.” 

“We are such a. bundle of ‘customs’ and 
‘ superstitions,’ that I think mother had better 
present us to one of the libraries in ITew 
York as reference books,” said Jeanie. 

“What a pretty volume you would make 
perched on one of those wire-covered shelves 
at the Society Library.” 

“ Oh, I should take care always to be out !” 
replied his sister. 

“So you would consider yourself worth read- 
ing?” added James. 

“Certainly. I should be ‘volume second’ to 
you,” returned Jeanie. 

“Mother, just kiss that civil sister of mine,” 
exclaimed Jem. “The next pretty bunch of 
pink kalmia we pass, I will gather it for you, 
my ‘lass o’ Gowrie !” 

“You are too valuable to be spared from 
my own library, children,” said mamma; “only 


184 


WHITSUNTIDE 


I sometimes wisli you could emulate the si- 
lence of the other volumes there.” 

‘‘Shall we try the adage, ‘children should 
be seen and not heard?’” asked Ned. 

“ No, no,” answered Effie, “ not now ; you 
must talk and tell me what games we can 
have to-day.” 

“ If I must keep up my character as refer- 
ence book, I reply that the games at Whit- 
suntide were like Lord of Misrule ; Morris 
Dances and dramatic exhibitions were also 
common.” 

“Please don’t talk any more nonsense, Ned,” 
rejoined Effie. “Mamma, how shall we amuse 
ourselves after dinner?” 

“ Suppose we plan our- excursion in this Tvay. 
As soon as we get out of the wagon in the 
glen below the Falls, we will leave our shawls 
in charge of Tim, and go up the left side of 
the mountain to Eagle’s Nest; after resting 
there — ” 

“ And listening to a story from Jem,” inter- 
posed Ned. 

*“Yery well,” continued mamma; “then we 
will come down to the glen again by the 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


185 


right-hand path, and Tim will have our table 
spread on the great rock at the foot of the 
Falls.” 

‘‘Perhaps the water in the ‘Basin’ will be 
too high for us to reach it,” said Jeanie. 

“If so, we will have to eat on the little 
bank opposite the Falls ; however, we can ar- 
range such matters when we get there,” re- 
turned Hed. “ After dinner, we will scramble 
through the woods, and assume picturesque at- 
titudes for Jeanie’s sketching propensities. I’m 
sure that sketch-book is in her bag. Why, 
Jen! what else have you here?” Ned had 
opened the satchel which lay in the bottom 
of the wagon, and began turning out the 
things. His sister tried to stop him, but she 
could not; so she was obliged to join in the 
shouts of laughter which greeted the appearance 
of its contents. “ What’s all this ?” He UU' 
rolled a towel in which was wrapt a brush 
and comb. “Now for the looking-glass — oh, 
here it is I” but he was mistaken — it was a 
gaiter-boot. 

“Shoes!” exclaimed Effie. “What did you 
bring them for, Jeanie?” 

16 =^ 


186 


WHITSUNTIDE 


‘‘In case I wet my feet,” replied her sister; 
“ the ground is often wet near the Falls.” 

“ Such thoughtfulness was worthy of my 
long head,” remarked Hed, as he continued 
his investigations. 

James declared he would give her the first 
‘rue’ he found, in token of remembrance, add- 
ing, that perhaps the ‘rue’ which crazy Heff 
gave her in the woods had made her thought- 
ful to-day. 

“ Crazy Heff?” asked Mrs. Ruthven. “ Did 
you see the poor follow, Jem? You have not 
told us much about your ride.” 

James then gave an account of their meet- 
ing with the old man, not forgetting the char- 
coal-burners’ village, and Jeanie leaping her 
horse over the little mud-pie bakere. 

“Kolling in the mud, were they?” exclaimed 
Hed. “How classical and appropriate, for you 
know in Ireland it was a custom — ” 

His brother and sisters set up a shout as 
if to drown his voice. “ I protest against 
further information and ‘ customs,’ ” cried James. 

“Customs for ever!” yelled Hed, louder than 
all, and in the same key continued, “On the 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


187 


daj before Whitsuntide in some places, men 
and boys — ” Again the rest of the children 
made such racket that Master Ned gave up, 
declaring that they were a set of graceless 
ignoramuses, and that he wouldn’t waste his 
superior knowledge upon them. 

They had been slowly winding up a steep 
mountain road, bordered on their left by a 
ravine, through which flowed a brook, while 
thick woods and high rocks made an impene- 
trable barrier on their other side. A sudden 
turn around a projecting ledge of rock brought 
them once more on level ground for a short 
distance; the bank of rocks disappeared also, 
and a grassy hill took its place, where pine, 
chestnut, and oak trees shaded a small spring 
in the green bank. At this spot there was a 
trough to water the horses, and a rock basin, 
too, from which thirsty travellers could drink. 
Tlie children flnished their yelling just as they 
came to this shady grove. 

“ My dear children,” exclaimed their father’s 
voice, “ have you so soon forgotten your promise 
to be thoughtful?” 

“ Oh, father, forgive us,” answered Ned, al- 


188 


WHITSUNTIDE 


most impatiently. “I will en4eavor to remem- 
ber.” 

“We are all to blame,” said James; “ Jeanie 
and I began the screaming first ; this road is 
so uninhabited, I knew no one could hear us.” 

“ I would not blame any of you to-day, chil- 
dren,” returned their father; “you might yell 
and scream as much as you please provided 
mamma’s head could stand it. But jump out 
and run about the woods while Tim is water- 
ing the horses.” 

“How long have you been waiting for us?” 
asked mamma of Aunt Effie ; then turning to 
her husband, “You drove at such a furious rate 
when you started from the village, I certainly 
thought you must have reached Bash-Bish by 
this time.” 

“We drove more slowly afterwards,” he re- 
plied ; “ this scenery is too beautiful to pass 
rapidly by. But look at those young ones ! 
what is Ned doing?” • 

“They are helping themselves to the oak 
wreaths which I have been making while sit- 
ting here,” said Aunt Effie. 

With the aid of his sister’s brush and comb, 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


189 


Ned* parted his hair in the middle, put on a 
wreath of oak leaves, and wrapped Jeanie’s 
shawl around him. “Now this is like pictures 
of Sappho !” he was exclaiming, as his mother 
turned in the direction her husband had point- 
ed. He was balancing himself more in the 
position of the flying Mercury than that of the 
poetess of the island of Lesbos. James sug- 
gested the mistake. “Oh, but I am represent- 
ing her, as she leaped from the Leucadian 
rock.” 

“But you’re not the ‘violet-crowned, pure, 
sweetly-smiling Sappho,”’ persisted James. 

“Then I’ll try another character,” he replied. 
Down he jumped, and, throwing himself into 
an absurdly ungraceful attitude over the clear 
spring, called himself “ Narcissus.” 

“ I wonder if your beauty will entrance you 
until we come back?” said his mother, “for 
Tim is ready to start once more.” 

“I’m not appreciated,” sighe(^ Ned ; “I shall 
have to adopt my own character again.” 

“There is another which you might adopt,” 
replied Jem ; “ your knowledge of Whitsuntide 
customs may recall it to you.” 


190 


WHITSUNTIDE 


“I fear I am blissfully ignorant,” he* an- 
swered, climbing into the wagon. “ What is 
it?” 

“ I’ll not hurt your feelings by telling you 
at once,” said his brother ; ‘‘ but you know 
whose day we call the ‘ first of April’ — well, 
the Hindoos kept a similar day of foolery; and 
now may I ask if you ever heard of the Whit- 
sun Fool?” 

“ Oh, is that the character you would have 
me assume? I’ll do it then; for if I remember 
rightly, it was his duty to beg money of all 
travellers for the parish church — so give me 
some pennies, my dear brother!” 

Without looking at the cap which Hed held 
out to him, Jem shook his head, saying, “You 
can’t assume the character until you are dis- 
guised in the dress of a fool.” 

“ Oh, then lend me your coat, Jem 1” re- 
torted Hed. 

The children gommenced laughing, but Jeanie 
said, “And if he should lend it to you, whom 
do you purpose to employ in patching it with 
various colors and trimming it with squirrel 
tails and bells, as the orthodox fool’s coat was 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


191 


adorned ? Ah, no, I^ed, never borrow, when 
you can use your own as well.” 

“ So you want to laugh at me, sweet sis- 
ter. Yery well. I’ll amuse myself at your ex- 
pense.” I^ed picked up the satchel, and began 
to investigate once more. It is needless to say 
upon whom the laugh was now turned, as he 
drew out a pair of stockings wrapped around 
a sketch-book, six lemons, and a box of Dai- 
ly’s Pain Extractor, some adhesive plaster and 
Putnam’s Monthly, with several other equally 
incongruous articles. 

“ Harry, darling, why are you so quiet to- 
day ?” said Mrs. Ruthven ; ‘‘ you have hardly 
spoken a word since we started from home.” ^ 

“ Perhaps we’ll find his tongue in the bag,” 
suggested Hed. 

“Ho, indeed,” replied Harry; “I don’t give 
people a chance to steal it from me. I think 
you must have found your own there. Cousin 
Hed, for you’ve been using it ever since you 
began rummaging that satchel.” 

“Well done, Harry!” said Jem. “There, 
Brother Hed, what do you think of yourself, 
now ?” 


192 


WHITSUNTIDE 


“I feel like jumping in tlie bag and being 
shut up,” was his reply. 

Jeanie, change places with Effie and Har- 
ry,” said her mother. 

Tim stopped the wagon, and Mrs Ruthven 
took the little children beside her. Harry at 
once became very talkative, and told his aunt 
how much he liked the long ride, and the 
beautiful mountains which surrounded them, 
and the tall forest trees they passed ; while 
Effie listened to the birds, and looked at the 
wild flowers scattered on every side, and then, 
nestling her head on her mother’s shoulder, fell 
asleep to dream of bright blossoms and mur- 
muring brooks. 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


193 


CHAPTER IX. 

“ Now, for our mountain sport : Up to yon hill ; 

Your legs are young.” 

Ctmbeline, Act III., Scene 3d. 

The Falls of Bash-Bish are situated in a 
gorge formed by the Tagbonic range and a 
spur of the Green Mountains, running westward 
through the south-western corner of Massachu- 
setts. Their wildness, their total seclusion, and 
the extremely picturesque beauty of the scenery, 
have lately attracted the attention of our Ameri- 
can artists ; and travellers froiti foreign shores 
have journeyed many miles to gaze upon the 
giant rocks, and crystal waters dashing from 
beside the mountain above into the black 
basin beneath, from whence they again rush 
over rocks, and down through the narrow glen, 
forming a thousand water-falls, and showering, 
with silvery spray, the little rainbows, trembling 
over this mountain stream. 

ir 


194 : 


WHITSUNTIDE 


Those who have lingered “ in the deep 
Trosachs’ wildest nook” may once again fancy 
themselves in Bonnie Scotland,” when they 
look down the Bash-Bish gorge, and again, while 
wandering up the mountain side, they will 
recall to mind the Bhymer’s ' Glen, at Abbots- 
ford. This was the spot where little Effie Bnth- 
ven had chosen to spend her birth-day, and it 
was the muffled roar of the Falls which chased 
away the beautiful dreams, and caused her to 
open her eyes, exclaiming, Why, mamrna ! 
are we here already.” 

The children were soon out of the wagon, 
and down they ran to the basin at the foot of 
the Falls, l^ed, turning to the right, went over 
the rustic foot-bridge which led to the opposite 
bank, beside the Falls themselves. “ Come this 
way, children,” called their father, as he saw 
them preparing to go up the mountain, we 
will ascend to Eagle’s Nest from the other side, 
and come down by the path you are fol- 

Jeanie, James, and Ned persuaded their 
father to let them continue on their way, prom- 
ising to meet him on the summit ; but Effle and 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


195 


Harry returned, and joined their parents, who 
walked a sliort distance up the road, and, turn- 
ing to the right, crossed the Bash-Bish Biver 
above the Falls. They soon reached the path 
opposite to the one which* the other children 
had taken, and then came the toil of a moun- 
tain scramble. This was real fun to Effie and 
Harry ; and they sprang up the steep bank, 
occasionally catching hold of the trees and 
shrubs for support, then pausing to rest on the 
rocks until overtaken by their parents.” 

The side which Hed had chosen to guide his 
sister and brother, was far more difficult of 
ascent : the path was steeper, longer, and not 
so clearly defined. They lost their way more 
than once, and, by the time they reached Eagle’s 
Hest, their father and his party had been there 
nearly half an hour. “ Why do they call this 
Eagle’s Hest, papa ?” asked Effie ; “ it don’t 
look like a ‘ nest.’ ” 

“ Do you see that fiat rock, projecting before 
us?” said her father. “The ‘nest’ is under that 
rock ; now I will hold you and Harry so as to 
look into it.” 

Effie at first drew back from the precipice. 


196 


WHITSUNTIDE 


but Harry whispered : ‘‘ Oh, Effie, don’t be 

frightened ; your papa won’t let you fall !” 

“ I know that, Harry ; but it made me dizzy 
to look down in the glen. Here, papa — I’m 
ready now.” 

Her father led her to the verge of the rock, 
and held her firmly while she leaned far oyer, 
and looked into the cave under it.* There was 
nothing in this hole but some withered branches 
of hemlock, and heaps of dried leaves — the 
eagle (if one had ever lived there) had long 
since deserted his eyrie. Each of the children, 
in turn, looked from the rock. About a hun- 
dred and fifty feet below them, to the right, 
was the Bash-Bish Hiver, dashing over the ledge 
of rocks which forms the first, or “Upper Fall,” 
and then, after winding for a short distance, at 
the depth of two hundred feet beneath, the 
river is divided by an enormous rock,f into two 
streams, which fiow on either side of it, into 

* Within the last year a path has been made into this cave, 
but it requires a stronger head, and firmer steps, than most people 
possess, to attempt the descent. 

t Early in the spring, or during a great freshet, this rock is 
sometimes covered with water; but the writer of this story has 
never but once been so fortunate as to witness it thus. 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


197 


the basin at the foot of Eagle IS’est Moun- 
tain, thus forming the “ second,” or “ Lower 
Fall.” Hills covered with trees, and here and 
there a precipice of dark gray rock, shut out 
all other views. FTo sound was heard save the 
rush of the waters and the songs of mountain 
birds ; no sign of life could be traced on those 
rocky walls, where the moss had been creeping 
slowly and noiselessly, as centuries glided away. 

While the others were looking at the “nest,” 
James and Hed amused themselves by gather- 
ing hemlock boughs, to make seats for the party 
to sit down and rest. After they had taken 
their places, Effie begged Jem to tell them his 
promised story. “ I have almost forgotten the 
one you mean,” said her brother ; “ what was 
the name of it?” 

But JSTed answered, “I remember; it was 
to be called ‘ The Severed Hand.’ ” 

“ What a ferocious title !” remarked his 
mother. 

“The story is nearly equal to it,” answered 
James. “Shall I commence?” 

“Yes,” they all replied. 

“Once upon a time there lived a miller in 
17 * 


198 


WHITSUNTIDE 


N'orwaj, who was so unfortunate as to have 
his mill destroyed by fire on two successive 
Whitsun-eves. The third year just before Whit- 
suntide, he had a tailor in his house to make 
holiday clothes for him. ‘I wonder if my mill 
will be burnt to-night,’ said the miller. 

“ ‘ Give me the key,’ replied the tailor, ‘ and 
I will go and keep watch in it.’ 

“The miller thanked his friend, and praised 
him as a model of goodness; and when even- 
ing came, he gave him the key. The tailor 
took a large kettle with him, and plenty of 
milk, to make himself some porridge, besides an 
old sabre to defend himself in case robbers 
attacked him. As it grew late, he built a 
blazing fire, mixed his porridge, and put it over 
to boil. At the dead of night, the door of the 
mill suddenly flew open ; the tailor seized his 
sabre, but he quickly laid it down, for nothing 
but a troop of black cats entered — cat after cat, 
and still they came, until the room was filled 
with them. hTow, to tell the truth, the tailor 
was afraid of spirits; so before he sat down to 
eat his bowl of porridge, he had drawn a circle 
on the floor, around which he wrote his ‘pater- 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


199 


noster,’ so he thought no unearthly being would 
dare enter to the centre, where he sat. 

“By and by, one of the cats caught sight 
of the kettle, and ran up and tried to overturn 
it. ‘ Whist, cat, or you’ll burn yourself !” ex- 
claimed the tailor. Away the cat ran, and call- 
ing the Other cats to her, they all began to hop 
and dance around the circle ; but in a few 
moments puss returned to the porridge-pot, and 
tried again to upset it. ‘Whist, cat, or you’ll 
burn yourself,’ again said the tailor, and drove 
it from the chimney. ‘Whist, cat, or you’ll 
burn yourself, the tailor says,’ said the cat to 
the other cats; and they all began hopping 
again ; but in a moment the same cat was 
away, repeating her efforts to overturn the pot. 
‘Whist, cat, or you’ll burn yourself,’ again ex- 
claimed the tailor, in such a rage that all the 
cats began tumbling and turning over each 
other; but they soon resumed their dancing 
with such increased velocity, that it seemed to 
the tailor as if every thing was whirling round 
before him. All this time the cats were staring 
at him with their great fierce eyes, as though they 
would swallow him. At last the cat who had 


200 


WHITSUNTIDE 


tried to upset the pot, put her paw within the 
circle, as if she felt inclined to seize hold of 
the tailor; but he kept his hand on his sabre, 
and when she put it in a second time, he 
choped it off. Then all the cats rushed away, 
screeching and howling, as quickly as they 
could, and left the tailor in quiet possession of 
the mill. 

‘‘When morning came, he arose, locked the 
mill-door, and went to the miller’s house. Be- 
ing Whit-Sunday, the miller and his wife were 
up bright and early. ‘ Good-morning,’ said the 
miller, shaking hands with the tailor, glad and 
somewhat surprised to see him in safety once 
more. ‘Come, wife, let us all shake hands,’ he 
continued, ‘ my mill is safe.’ Bnt his wife ap- 
peared confused and angry, and refused to 
shake hands, keeping her hands under her 
apron, and when her husband caught hold of 
her arm, lo ! her right hand was gone. 

“The tailor now exhibited the paw he had 
cut off; but instead of a cat’s paw, it had be- 
come a woman’s hand, with a golden ring, 
bearing the miller’s cypher, on one of the fin- 
gers. And this was — ‘ The Severed Hand.’ 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


201 


“What became of them all?” asked Effie, as 
James ceased speaking, 

“ The story says, that when the town author- 
ities got hold of the matter, the woman was 
burned as a witch, but history is silent on all 
other points.” 

“Well, I’m glad of it,” said ISTed, “for I’m 
very hungry !” 

“ Oh, you naughty, rude boy !” exclaimed Ef- 
fie; “you ought to thank Jamie for telling us 
the story, even if it did tire you.” 

“ I thank him, Euphie ; only I forgot to 
say so !” he replied. 

When they started to go down the moun- 
tain they again separated; James, Jeanie, and 
I^ed determining to find a path for themselves, 
while Mr. Ruthven and his party went by the 
way the children had ascended. The steepness 
was no drawback to their descent, and the path 
was so familiar to Mr. Euthven that he guided 
them quickly and safely to the glen where Tim 
had already built a fire to roast the potatoes 
and boil the tea-kettle. 

The rock on which the table was spread 
was nearly in the centre of the basin, and 


202 


WHITSUNTIDE 


joined to tlie land bj stepping-stones and 
smaller rocks. The water at this season of the 
year was so low that they could reach this 
rock without wetting their feet, but the spray 
from the falls made the stones slippery and 
dangerous to step upon. Tim carried Effie and 
Harry to the seats he had made with the 
wagon cushions, beside the table ; and there 
the little ones sat looking down into the clear 
water, or holding up their faces to catch the 
tiny drops when the breeze wafted the spray 
of the Falls towards them. 

I wish the children would come,” said 
mamma ; “ I have made the tea, and Tim tells 
me the potatoes are done.” 

“ And the chickens, and eggs, sandwiches, 
pies and cakes, don’t they look nice !” ex- 
claimed Effie. “ Come, Hed,” she shouted. The 
Falls drowned her soft voice ; but Hed saw her 
turning her little face in every direction, and the 
next moment, although she could not see him, 
she heard his peculiar “ whoop,” which told 
her that he was near. 

‘‘Well, Tim would like to know how they 
got thar !” exclaimed the old man, whose quick 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


203 


eye had detected the waving of a white hand- 
herchief from behind some bushes, above the 
Lower Fall. 

Mrs. Ruthven looked in the direction he 
pointed, just as a great log of wood came dash- 
ing down into the basin, flinging a shower of 
water over the two children. They were startled 
for a moment, but when they looked up again, 
and saw Jeanie and James launching another 
log for their amusement, they laughed and 
stretched out their little hands, as if to prevent 
another splashing. Ned, in the meanwhile, 
perched himself on the rock which divided the 
Falls; his father motioned the thoughtless boy 
to get down, the place was too dangerous even 
for an older person. 

Tim, who knew every inch of ground in that 
region, assured Mr.^ Ruthven, that as long as 
Ned kept quiet there would be no danger. 
‘‘Master Ned nebber could have got to that 
ere rock if ’e water had a bin high ; so, even 
if he tumble down back, he won’t come ober 
der Falls.” 

Notwithstanding this assurance, Mrs. Enth- 
ven was too anxious to have him in so danger- 


204 


WHITSUNTIDE 


ous a spot, for the least motion forward would 
have hurled him nearly a hundred feet, into 
the rocky basin. Obedient to the motions of 
his father, Ned carefully descended the rock; 
hut when he was within a foot of the dry bed 
of the river, he lost his balance, and fell, just 
on the brink of the Fall ! 

Poor Mrs. Puthven became as white and cold 
as marble, while her eyes were riveted upon 
her child, struggling, it appeared to her, in the 
rushing waters ! It seemed but a moment be- 
fore Tim and Mr. Puthven had scaled the steep 
bank, and gained the head of the Fall. “ Safe ! 
safe!” shouted Tim’s voice. The mother’s ear, 
alone, caught these words, through the heavy 
rolling sound which filled the air; for, her eyes 
closed, and murmuring “Thank God! my child 
is safe !” she sank into Aunt Effie’s arms. 

James swung himself down the bank, and 
crossed the rocks, to the place where his mother 
was sitting. “ Mother ! mother !” he exclaimed, 
“ Ned is safe — I hurried to tell you.” 

His mother opened her eyes, and sat up. 
Her cheek flushed, but it paled immediately ; 

Safe^ and still on the brink of the Fall?” she 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


205 


asked, pointing up, for ISTed was in the same 
position. 

“Yes, mother,” replied Jem, trying to conceal 
a smile — “he has slipped down between two 
old trees which have fallen into the river, just 
above the Fall, and he is so wedged in he 
can’t get out ; his legs are the only part of 
his body in the water.” 

“Oh, Jamie!” broke in Effie, who had cov- 
ered her face from the time she saw Ked 
slip down, until she heard Jem’s voice, “ Jamie, 
it looks so dreadful from here!” 

“So it does, pet — no wonder you were all 
frightened; but, see — father and Tim are lift- 
ing him up.” 

Dangerous as ITed’s position seemed, and 
frightened as they had all been, it was im- 
possible not to smile as they watched the ex- 
ertions to pull the young gentleman from his 
foot-bath. In time, he w^as once more on his 
feet, and Jeanie, under Tim’s care, w^as the 
first to reach the “ table-rock,” on which the 
dinner was spread ; but several moments passed 
before Hed and his father joined them. The 
poor boy looked rather downcast, as he ap- 
18 


206 


WHITSUNTIDE 


proaclied his mother, yet he tried to seem 
cheerful when she kissed him, and made room 
for him beside her. “ Oh, mamma ! I’m afraid 
I will never be thoughtful,” he whispered. I 
am sure you are tired of hearing me say, ‘ I’ll 
try’ — but indeed I will try harder than ever, 
after this, not to jump at the first thing which 
comes into my head !” 

Before they commenced dinner, Mr. Buthven 
drew James aside, and reproved him severely 
for allowing Hed to climb upon the rock. James 
made no reply ; but his brother, guessing, by 
his father’s face, the subject of the conversa- 
tion, ran towards him, exclaiming, “ Father, 
don’t blame Jem, both he and Jeanie begged 
me not to go there, and I wouldn’t mind 
them.” 

Mr. Euthven looked at his handsome sons 
with all a father’s pride. “What noble boys 
they are,” was his thought, but he merely said, 
“We will forget this matter; but remember, 
Edward, I have your promise to try and be 
less impulsive. Jem did not tell me that he 
had cautioned you, or I should not have blamed 
him.” 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


207 


I knew he wouldn’t,” exclaimed 'Ned ; 
“ that’s the reason I came to tell you myself. 
You are a good old brother,” he whispered, 
turning towards James, as their father moved 
away. 

“ And you’re another,” replied Jem, throw- 
ing his arm across his brother’s shoulders, and 
marching off towards the dinner-table. 

“ Who laughed at these things ?” asked Jeanie, 
holding her stockings and gaiters before hTed. 
“Mother says you must put them on, while 
Tim hangs yours by the fire to dry.” 

Aunt Effie followed, bringing a towel. “ Take 
off your wet boots,” she said, “ and rub your 
feet well with the towel, or you’l take cold.” 

I7ed sat down, and looked at the shoes which 
his sister gave him. “ Talk of Cinderella’s glass 
slippers !” he exclaimed, after some considera- 
tion ; “ why, her old sisters might have put it 
on more easily than I can get my foot into this 
small arrangement ! Why, Jen, these little heels 
would pitch me head first into the water, if I 
tried to walk to my place at the table!” 

“Nonsense,” replied his sister, laughing; 
“just try it — but stop, I will give you these 


208 


WHITSUNTIDE 


strong walking-boots I have on; I am sure you 
can wear them.” 

The change was accordingly made ; and al- 
though they fitted tightly, l^ed found them 
more comfortable than his own wet boots. 

Effie, in whose honor this picnic was given, 
sat at the head of the table. At her request, 
her father took the opposite seat, to carve the 
broiled chickens which formed a prominent 
feature in the repast. It was a merry dinner- 
party. Some had large plates, others little ones ; 
the boys used their penknives, for Biddy had 
forgotten to put up any knives but the one with 
which Mr. Euthven carved. 

“How many legs have those chickens got, 
father?” asked Hed. “I’ve had two, and Effie 
is biting away at one, and I want another, if 
you have it there.” 

“Here are two — will you have them both?” 

“ Ho, thank you, not till I take my shoes off — 
I’ve eaten so much, that they begin to pinch 
me !” 

“ What an excuse !” remarked Jeanie. 

“ I’m delighted to hear you speak,” returned 
Ned. “I was about to ask papa to give you 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


209 


something to eat; you’ve been gnawing at that 
hone until Dash looks upon you as a rival.” 

“I was thinking, and forgot what I was do- 
ing,” returned Jeanie. 

‘‘What a way to think — with a bone in your 
mouth ! Jem, get her sketch-book, and take 
her portrait as ‘ Meditation.’ And mamma,” he 
added, turning to her, “ she looks like ‘ Patience 
on a monument.’ ” 

“Smiling at nonsense^'' suggested Jem. 

“ 'Hot exactly,” she answered ; “ I was think- 
ing how we should amuse Effie after dinner; 
shall we play ‘Hide and Seek’ with her?” 

“Oh, that will be real fun!” and Effie clap- 
ped her hands. “ Give me my birth-day cake,” 
she said ; “ I will cut it now.” 

Jeanie motioned to Tim, and he brought for- 
ward a large loaf, beautifully frosted and sur- 
rounded wdth a wreath of Euphie’s favorite 
flowers. He placed it before Effie, and with it 
a silver knife, on which her name was en- 
graved, a birth-day gift from her sister and 
brothers. Nothing could exceed the child’s de- 
light, as she examined this unexpected present; 
the cake she had seen early in the morning. 

18 * 


210 


WHITSUNTIDE 


“ I want to kiss you all !” she exclaimed, 
stretching her arms towards them. 

“Give us some of your cake first,” said her 
mother, smiling. 

“I don’t like to soil my pretty knife,” she 
replied, but at the same time she lifted the 
wreath, and put the knife into the cake. 

“ How nicely it cuts,” remarked Harry. 

“ Oh, yes,” said Effie ; “ you must help me 
cut nine pieces, Harry — ^Tim must have one.” 
The cousins assisted each other, and before the 
cake had been passed round the table, Effie 
took ofi* the largest slice for Tim. 

When they had all finished dinner. Dash in- 
cluded, Aunt Effie helped Jeanie and her 
brothers to wash and wipe the dishes for Mrs. 
Ruthven to pack up in the baskets. Then they 
went into the woods, where Effie played “ hide 
and seek” until she was too tired to play any 
longer. “We have but an hour more to spend 
here,” said Mr. Euthven ; “ let us sit down on 
the bank opposite the Falls and try some quiet 
game.” 

Assent was quickly given, and James pro- 
posed the game of “Twenty Questions.” When 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


211 


they were all seated, Jeanie opened her sketch- 
book, and Harry was chosen to think of some- 
thing which the others were obliged to guess 
by asking him questions. He puzzled them for 
a long time ; but at last, James, after summing 
up the answers his cousin had given, asked if 
it had ever been in Scotland. 

“Oh, yes,” replied Harry, too eagerly. 

“ And at Bannockburn ?” 

Harry said “Yes.” 

“Is it the heart of Sir Robert Bruce?” 

“ You have guessed it, Jem,” answered 
Harry. 

Effie then took a thought, but they had not 
asked her many questions before dog Dash, who 
was lying at her feet, raised his head. Forget- 
ting, for a moment, how cautious she must be, 
she bent down and patted his head, saying, 
“ Lie down, Dashy, I don’t want them to know 
I am thinking of you.” 

“ Why, Euphie, you have told us your 
thought,” said Hed. 

“Hever mind,” she replied, “I am tired of 
thinking; let papa take my turn. Dash and I 
will go and look for some wintergreen.” 


212 


WHITSUNTIDE 


“ Don’t give us a very difficult one,” pleaded 
all the children. 

Mr. Kuthven promised to do as they wished, 
and he thought he had chosen an easy one ; 
but the questions were asked and none of them 
guessed it “Have you never heard of the 
scarf which the Emperor Saladin divided by a 
dextrous stroke of his sword?” 

James was the only one of the children who 
remembered it; so he told them the story of 
Hichard Cceur de Lion, who, wishing to display 
his strength before Saladin, lifted his battle-axe 
and, with one blow, cut through a bar of iron. 
Saladin immediately unfastened a gauze scarf 
which he wore, and as it floated away on the 
breeze, divided it with a single stroke of his ' 
sword — showing thereby his wonderful dexterity, 
and the keenness and temper of his weapon. 

Jeanie and James together decided upon a 
thought. It was “Tizona,” the Cid’s sword.^^^^ 
Their father guessed it. 

Hed’s thought was, the geese whose cackling 
saved Rome from the Gauls. 

Aunt Effie and Mrs. Ruthven, in their turn, 
were called upon to tax their memories, they 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


213 


took Euphie’s birth-daj cake, and from its very 
simplicity not one of the party guessed it. 

Five o’clock came, and they prepared to re- 
turn home, for the sun had long since disap- 
peared behind the mountains, and dark shadows 
were creeping up the glen. James changed 
places with his father, and drove home rapidly 
•with Aunt Effie, while the wagon followed slow- 
ly, for the children were in no hurry to reach 
Cedar Grove. They amused themselves by criti- 
cising the cottages they occasionally passed, and 
when they entered the woods they would sing 
so loudly that they startled the birds already 
asleep in the tall trees. 

“ Oh, uncle, look at that funny little shanty 
without chimneys,” said Harry. “ I wonder 
where the smoke goes.” 

“The people have got the stove-pipe out of 
the window,” answered EflSe. 

“ They would have escaped paying the 
‘ Smoke-farthings,’ or ‘ Whitsun-farthings,’ as 
they were also called, had they lived in Eng- 
land a long time ago,” remarked Hed, with a 
smiling glance at Jeanie. 

“More information I” she exclaimed; “how- 


214 


WHITSUNTIDE 


ever, since you’ve begun, go on, and tell us 
what they are.” 

“Do you remember any other name than 
those you have mentioned?” asked his father. 

“Yes,” replied ]^ed. “They were sometimes 
called Quadrantes Pentecostes. They were a 
substitute for offerings which were anciently 
made in Whitsun-week, by every man in Eng- 
land, who occupied a house with a chimney, 
to the cathedral church of the diocese in which 
he lived.” 

“Now, brother, I wonder if you have told 
us all you know about Whitsuntide,” said 
Jeanie. i 

“I believe I have,” he replied; “and in re- 
turn for such a quantity of valuable informa- 
tion I have only received the two items with 
which Jem and yourself favored me wEile com- 
ing down the mountain.” 

“What were they?” asked Harry. “Effie 
and I didn’t hear them?” 

“ I have forgotten the manner in which they 
occurred in our conversation, but I can tell 
you what they were.” 

“ I remember,” interposed Jeanie, “ when 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


215 


James entered that wild pass connecting the 
Upper with the Lower Fall, he compared it to 
the Glen of Corri-nan-shian, where Halbert 
Glendinning, in Sir Walter Scott’s ‘Monastery,’ 
met the White Maid of Avenel, and then he 
said he had found a wonderful piece of infor- 
mation respecting Whitsuntide. You wouldn’t 
believe that he was in earnest, until he told 
you what it was.” 

“ A wonderful piece of information indeed,” 
repeated Ned, laughing. “It was only this — 
when Abbot Boniface appoints Halbert Glen- 
dinning to be his bow-bearer, whose duty it 
was to shoot the deer for the refectory table, 
the Kefectioner and Kitchener name over the 
various inducements for him to accept the 
office, and among other perquisites, one is that 
he shall receive ‘ a green gown and pair of 
leather galligaskins every Pentecost!”’ 

“Now what was the other thing?” persisted 
Harry. 

“Then I laughed at Jem, and said neither of 
them could tell me any thing else, but Jeanie 
declared she could, although it was not par- 
ticularly appropriate. Easter and Whitsuntide, 


216 


WHITSUNTIDE 


she said, was the time King Charles I. gave 
his sacred touch for the cure of king’s-evil, 
but he finally changed it to Easter and Mich- 
aelmas as times more convenient for the tem- 
perature of the season.” 

“ I can tell you of an old superstition,” 
added Mr. Ruthven, “ but it is rather more 
serious than those which have just been men- 
tioned. It was anciently believed that what- 
ever a person asked of God on Whit-Sunday 
morning at the instant the sun rose, He would 
grant the prayer. So people arose early, and 
watched earnestly for sunrise.” 

‘‘ I should think Cousin Jeanie was watching 
earnestly for something,” said Harry, looking up 
in his cousin’s face.” 

She smiled. “I was wishing by the first 
star of evening,” she replied, pointing upwards 
to the only star. “I heard what papa said, 
and it reminded me of my boarding-school 
days, when a number of girls would gather 
round a window and watch for that star.” 

“ Did your wishes ever come true ?” asked 
Harry. 

“ Mine did sometimes ; but as we could not 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


217 


tell our wishes to each other I never knew 
whether my companions got theirs.” 

“ What were you wishing for just now, 
Jeanie?” asked Effie. 

It may not be fulfilled if I tell it to you,” 
replied her sister ; “ and I want it to be so, for 
it was something about you.” 

“ I hope you wished that every birth-day of 
mine could be as pleasant as this one has been,” 
said Effie. 

‘‘ Perhaps I did.” 

“I know what I am wishing for,” said Hed, 
gazing very intently on the sky, “something 
to eat, a cup of coffee, and my bed — I’m dead 
beat out.” 

“Which, I suppose, when translated into re- 
spectable English, means that even you are 
tired for once,” returned Jeanie. 

“Even so; my bones ache yet from that 
squeeze between the logs. I’m afraid I shall 
dream of falls of every kind all night.” 

But the next morning when Jeanie askeff 
him if he had enjoyed his rest, he declared that 
he had had “ilo good of his bed at all, for he 
couldn’t remember any thing about it.” 

19 


218 


WHITSUNTIDE 


CHAPTER X. 

“ Go ask ! a thousand tongues shall tell 
His name and dear renown, 

Where altar, font, and holy bell, 

Are gifts he handed down : 

A. thousand hearts keep warm the name, 

Which share those gifts so blest ; 

Yet even this may tell the same, 

First mitre of the West! 

“ This mitre, with its crown of thorns, 

Its cross upon the ffont ; 

Not for a proud adorning worn. 

But for the battle’s brunt : 

This helmet — with Salvation’s sign, 

, Of one whose shield was faith ; 

This crown — of him, for right divine. 

Who battled unto death 1” 

COXE. 

On Tuesday, the day after the picnic, the 
children were too tired to care for any of their 
active sports, such as rowing on the lake, or 
racing through the woods. 

Euphie, who had walked home from church 
with her father and James, followed them to 
the library, where they had decided to spend 


A.T CEDAR GROVE. 


219 


the morning in reading. She chose a picture- 
book, and sat down in one of the windows, 
where she was so q.uiet that Jem thought she 
had fallen asleep. He was soon undeceived ; 
for his father having asked him what he was 
reading, he replied : “ I am trying to find some- 
thing about Trinity Sunday, apart from the his- 
torical accounts of its observance.” 

“ Customs, as Ned says,” remarked his little 
sister, coming up to her brother’s chair. 

“ Why, you little mousie ! I thought you were 
sleeping, you were so still !” exclaimed J ames, 
at the same time lifting her to his knee. 

His father resumed the conversation. “The 
book I am reading refers to some extracts from 
the church-warden’s account at Lambeth, in re- 
gard to Trinity Sunday — would you like to look 
at them?” 

Janies took the book from his father, and 
read : — 

£, 8 d 

“ 1519. Items for garlands and drynk for 

the chyldrene on Trenyte Even .006 
To Spryngwell and Smyth for sing- 
ing with the Procession on Trenete 

Sonday Even 0 0 12 

Item— for four onssys of garuesyng 
rebonds, at the onse 0 3 0 ” 


220 


WHITSUNTIDE 


‘‘ So they had processions, and dressed the 
churches on Trinity Sunday ; I did not know 
that before. Have you found any thing else, 
father?” 

“ Hot in that book ; I have not been looking 
for any thing of the kind ; but perhaps I can 
remember some.” Mr. Huthven thought for a 
few moments, and then went towards one of the 
book-cases, and, selecting several volumes, hand- 
ed them to James. ‘‘My memory fails me,” 
he continued ; “ but perhaps you can find all 
you wish in those books.” 

James gave Effie some of them to hold, 
and commenced looking over one of them ; but 
his father again said — “I recollect an old su- 
perstition of Lorj‘ain, in France ; the people 
used to go early to the fields on Trinity Sun- 
day morning, to see three suns rise at once.” 

“ How^ many things people believed about the 
sun,” remarked Effie. “It dances at Easter — 
God gives people who see it rise what they ask 
for at Whit-Sunday ; and now three suns are 
seen at Trinity.” 

“ It is not really so, my little daughter ; these 
are old superstitions, which were believed long 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


221 


ago, I merely repeat them to show you how 
credulous people used to be.” 

“I know, papa, that people do not think so 
now. One Easter I tried to see the sun dance — 
didn’t I, Jamie?” 

“ Yes,” he replied ; “ and now do you mean 
to watch for three suns next Sunday morning?” 

“ Perhaps so ; but I won’t bother you any 
more — only let me put my head on your shoul- 
der.” Effie nestled down in her own fashion, 
and before long was sound asleep. 

Jeanie, in the mean time, came into the room, 
and, sitting down by Jem, offered to help him. 

Let me have ‘ Tliorpe,’ ” she replied, as her 
brother gave her a volume of ‘ Brand,’ “ the 
IN^orth German legends are so amusing.” 

“But you’ll find nothing about Trinity,” an- 
swered James. 

However, Jeanie took the book, as if confident 
of success. The time passed away in silence; 
at length Jem laid down his book, saying, “Two 
things found.” 

“I’ve only found one,” said Jeanie; “and 
it’s not much — what were yours, Jem?” 

“ Mine are customs relating to Trinity Mon- 


222 


WHITSUNTIDE 


day. The first refers to a fair held at Deptford, 
England, in consequence of the pastimes of the 
persons assembled to see the ‘ Master’ and breth- 
ren of Trinity House pay their annual visit on 
this day, to choose the ‘Master’ and ‘Wardens’ 
for the ensuing year. It is a hospital for worn- 
out sea-commanders and their widows. The 
‘Master’ has usually been a nobleman, on ac- 
count of the importance of this institution to 
the naval interests of the country. 

“ The other is an account of ‘ Lamb-shearing,’ 
which used to commence on Trinity Monday. 
The ‘ Lady of the Lamb’ was a favorite festival ; 
but the manner of electing the ‘ Lady’ on this 
day was absurd. All the young girls, after 
having their thumbs tied behind them, ran after 
a lamb, and the one who caught its tail in her 
mouth was called ‘Lady of the Lamb.’ The 
next day it was roasted, and she presided at 
the feast, where they had music and dancing. 
How, what did you find?” 

“ You were almost right in saying I would 
not find any thing in regard to Trinity Sunday,” 
replied Jeanie ; “ but here is something which 
refers to this season. It is an account of St. 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


223 


Lupus’s cake, a Netherlandish custom formerly 
common about Tirlemont and Louvain. They 
bake a cake in honor of the holy Trinity, mak- 
ing in it five holes in remembrance of the five 
wounds of Christ. This they give, in the name 
of St. Lupus, as alms to the first beggar that 
presents himself by chance, in the belief that 
their flocks and herds are thereby rendered se- 
cure from wolves, which they call ‘ lupi.’ ” 

When Jeanie had ceased, their father told 
them of a Welsh custom of strewing fern be- 
fore the doors on Trinity Sunday, and asked 
James if he had forgotten the beautiful legend 
of St. Patrick and the clover.” 

“ O no,” he replied ; “ but I think we all know 
the story.” 

“I don’t believe Ned will remember it,” said 
his father. “ I hear him whistling out there in 
the hall. Suppose you call him here and ask 
him.” 

But the young gentleman came without being 
called. “What an interesting time you must 
be having,” was his first remark; “the lunch 
bell rang three minutes ago, and Pve been wait- 
ing ever since at the foot of the stairs for you 


224 


WHITSUNTIDE 


all, and Jeanie in particular ; but I see slie don’t 
keep her promises !” He looked at her, shook 
his head, and put on a very sober face. 

“ Don’t keep my promises ?” said J eanie. 
‘‘ Why, what do you mean ?” 

‘‘ The promise you made in a certain song 
we sang coming home last night. I kept my 
part of the compact.” Hed laughed at the mys- 
tified expression on his sister’s face, and began 
to whistle again. 

Jeanie smiled, too, and ran up and caught 
hold of him. “There, you’ve whistled, and I’ve 
‘ come to you, my lad ;’ so now I’ve kept my 
promise to you, my nonsensical brother!” 

While the workmen were repairing the din- 
ing-room, the table was moved into the parlor. 
Effie could not believe that she had been asleep, 
and when she opened her eyes and found her- 
self on the parlor sofa, she started up wdth such 
a frightened, bewildered expression, that her 
brother Jem, who had placed her there, could 
hardly keep from laughing. But she was soon 
at the table, and doing her best, so Jem said, 
to rival Hed in eating his favorite Betsey’s 
ginger-bread. 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


225 


“I wonder if you’ll have Betsey’s ginger- 
bread to eat at West Point?” said Jeanie. “I 
shall have to take you a supply every time I 
go to see you.” 

“ I hope you’ll visit me every day then,” re- 
plied her brother. 

“ What a soldier-like wish !” exclaimed James. 

“ Laugh as much as you please, now,” re- 
turned I^ed, “but one of these days, when you 
see my name in the papers as Captain Edward 
Kuthven, and hear how gallantly I defended — ” 

“ ITo, no,” interrupted Jem, “we’ll never hear 
of you assuming the defensive j but if there’s 
any attack to be made, you’ll be the first in 
the field.” 

j “Who dares to insinuate that I will never 
1 defend ?” returned E’ed, trying to put on a very 

indignant look ; “ don’t you remember once, 
when we were little boys, how we played 
Americans and British — I was standard-bearer 
in the American army, and you were an English 
General — didn’t I defend my country’s flag when 
you sent one of your officers to take it from 
me ?” 

“ Yes, I remember,” replied his brother, laugh- 


226 


WHITSUNTIDE 


ing ; ‘‘you rolled up the flag, and beat him and 
his company with it, until they were obliged 
to retreat, then you unfurled it and chased them 
with half a dozen soldiers.” 

“ O, well, that was only play ; but when I 
have to be in earnest, I mean to make a good 
soldier.” 

“I hope you will, my son,” said Mr. Euth- 
ven, “ good in every sense of the word.” 

“ Make a second Sir Philip Sydney, dear 
Ned — no mother could ask more !” 

ril try and make whatever you wish,” re- 
plied Ned, as he left the table wuth his mother’s 
arm around him. “ But it will be a hard life 
for me at W est Point ; I am so different from 
most boys of my age Pm afraid I shall get 
into all sorts of mischief.” 

“ You must learn the right use of the word 
nOj and when to say it, and after you have said 
it, to abide by it.” 

“ That’s the hardest thing in the world for 
me to do, mother.” 

“ I know it is, dear Ned. It was hard for 
James when he flrst entered college: he met 
companions who were full of mischief. Most 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


227 


of them were kind-hearted and generous young 
men, with many noble traits. It was not easy 
for Jem to resist the temptations they so often 
placed before him.” 

“ Indeed it was not,” said James, who, with 
Jeanie, had followed his mother and Hed. 

“ How did you manage to succeed ?” asked 
his brother, turning round and taking his arm. 

“ Come to my dressing-room,” said mamma ; 
“ we will talk there.” 

Mrs. Kuthven and Jeanie took their sewing, 
but James complained of head-ache, so he 
threw himself on the lounge, and begged Jeanie 
to bathe his forehead and “ fuss” with his hair. 
‘‘ How, Hed, ril answer your question — ^hold on, 
Jen ! you’re dropping the cologne in my eyes.” 
When the smarting ceased, he continued : “ I 
am not sure that I have resisted temptation in 
thought altogether ; and my pride, perhaps, 
keeps me from yielding to any act which 
would disgrace me in the eyes of the ‘ Fa- 
culty.’ ” 

“Then, pride is a very good thing,” said his 
brother. 

“I think Jem means self-respect,” interposed 


228 


WHITSUNTIDE 


his mother; “if he uses the word pride, it may 
be confounded with haughtiness and vanity, 
which are wicked and silly. But, Jem, is your 
self-respect the only thing which keeps you out 
of the way of evil?” 

“ Ko, mother ; yet I’m afraid it helps more 
than principle sometimes.” 

“ But how do you manage to say ‘ no,’ 
when a friend comes to you and asks you to 
do something which you want to do, but which 
you know isn’t quite right, nor yet very wrong ?” 

“ That’s the hardest work of all, Hed ; I don’t 
know exactly how I learned to resist. At first, 
I am ashamed to confess, I did not ; yet, when 
my friends came to me a second time, I said 
‘ Ho ;’ and when they ridiculed me, I managed 
to be firm ; since then, although they do laugh 
at, and call me ‘parson,’ it has not been quite 
so hard to say ‘ no.’ ” 

“ They have learned to know how far they 
can go with you,” said Jeanie ; “ and they find 
that teasing don’t alter your mind. But why 
do they call you ‘ parson ?’ ” 

“Ah, Jeanie, although we have some capital 
fellows at Trinity, they don’t particularly fancy 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


229 


such a quiet piece of human nature as myself. 
They seem to think I like going to church too 
well.” 

“Then, they do not know that you really in- 
tend to study for the ministry 

“I have never spoken of my intentions but 
once, and then it was soon after I entered col- 
lege. I was in the library looking at Bishop 
Seabury’s mitre, when one of the freshmen 
came up and said, in a trifling manner, ‘Kuth- 
ven, I hear that you are aiming to become one 
of the absurd Apostolic Succession, so as to pos- 
sess one of those silly affairs.’” 

“ Oh ! what did you say ?” exclaimed ITed, 
springing to his feet ; “ I would have knocked 
the fellow down !” 

“ Exactly,” replied his brother, half smiling ; 
“ but you must remember that the Church Mili- 
tant cannot fight in quite the same manner as 
the Church military. Had I done as you sug- 
gest, I should have made an enemy of him for 
life ; besides, Hed, he was a smaljer boy than 
myself, and you know when we want to fight 
we generally choose one of our own size. And 
again — he didn’t know any better.” 

20 


230 


WHITSUNTIDE 


IS’ed murmured, “I would have pounded it 
into him.” But his mother asked Jem what 
answer he made. 

“I turned and looked at him for a moment, 
and said, ‘ Frank, you speak of the Apostolic 
Succession: do you know from whom the Apos- 
tles received their mission to go forth into all 
nations, teaching and baptizing in His Name ?’ 
He dropped liis eyes, but I continued : ‘ Do you 
know that the Church has preserved the roll 
of her Bishops from the time of those very Apos- 
tles to this day 

“‘Unbroken in their lineage: 

Their warrants clear as when 
Thou, Saviour, didst go up on high, 

And give good gifts to men ?’ — 

‘ Perhaps when you have learned more about 
the matter in question you will speak respect- 
fully.’ This hurt him more than knocking him 
down, Hed; for the young gentleman, like most 
freshmen, prided himself on his learning. He 
took it good-naturedly, however, begged my par- 
don for having spoken thoughtlessly, confessed 
he knew nothing about the Church, but hoped 
I w^ould put him in the way of learning some- 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


231 


thing about it. He is now the best friend I 
have at college, and to him alone have I spoken 
of my determination to be a minister.” 

“For the sake of the mitre, as he suggested?” 
said Hed. 

James replied very seriously, “ Ho ; I should 
never wish to assume so fearful a responsibil- 
ity.” 

“ O, well, you have succeeded very well,” con- 
tinued his brother, “ but I don’t believe they 
will dub me ‘ parson’ at the Point. I’m afraid 
I shall want to do all sorts of things which I 
ought not. I’ve got an idea that it’s an awful 
place for a fellow like myself, who really wishes 
to do right, but is easily tempted to do wrong !” 

“ So you imagine that all the cadets are a 
terribly wicked set of young men,” said his 
mother, smiling. “You must get all such ideas 
out of your head ; go there trusting to find 
good and noble-minded classmates; never allow 
yourself to be tempted to do any act in which 
there is a shadow of wrong : learn to refuse 
kindly but firmly.” 

“ Show your colors at once, brother Hed,” 
added James, “ take all the practical jokes which 


232 


WHITSUNTIDE 


they will be sure to play upon you good-natur- 
edly; be kind and obliging, without servility, 
and I don’t think you’ll find West Point such 
a terrible place.” 

‘‘ I’m not afraid of the place, or the cadets, 
either. I’m only afraid of myself.” 

“ Be a Christian and a gentleman,” said his 
mother, “ and then you needn’t fear any thing.” 

h[ed murmured, ‘‘Well, I’ll try,” and then 
looking at Jem, “But tell us something about 
Bishop Seabury’s mitre. I wish I could see it. 
Why don’t Bishops w^ear them now I wonder?” 

“Tliey were, probably, given up to satisfy 
Puritan objections,” replied his mother. “When 
you read more of the history of our American 
Church you will see how the compilers of our 
liturgy and the rubrics laid aside even the small- 
est unnecessary thing, so as to prevent, if pos- 
sible, dissent from the Church. They sacrificed 
in every thing but doctrine.” 

“ Oh, I’m so glad the Dissenters did not get 
hold of that mitre — ‘First mitre of the West!’” 
exclaimed Jeanie. “Wouldn’t they have torn 
it to a thousand pieces !” 

“I only wish they had tried to steal it, pro- 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


233 


vided I could have been by to protect it.” 
Ned gave a peculiarly shrill whistle, and laid 
his hand where his sword would soon be. 

“No,” said James, quietly, “I don’t believe 
they would have dared to destroy it. Now, 
Jeanie and Ned, you must not speak so hardly 
of Dissenters. Hate the sin as much as you 
please, but be charitable towards the sinner. 
Few of tliem know any thing about our Holy 
Church, or surely they would not leave it to 
join sects, the oldest of which number but 
three hundred years, and even those are ever 
changing in doctrine and discipline. 

“ Remember, Ned, it was not by fighting that 
Christ’s Apostles brought both Jews and Gen- 
tiles into the primitive Church. God’s Holy 
Spirit was with them ; that Spirit has been, and 
still is, with their successors, and our Saviour 
has promised that it shall be with them until 
the end of the world. Day by day, we pray 
that the Holy Church universal may be guided 
and governed by God’s Spirit, and that all 
Christians may be led to hold the Faith in 
unity. The Church’s door is opened to all; we 
know that those who enter become, by Baptism, 
20 * 


234 


WHITSUNTIDE 


children of our Saviour. At Confirmation God’s 
gifts of grace are given them, with which they 
may overcome the world ; and when that victory 
is accomplished, death will but remove them 
from the Church Militant on earth to the 
Church Triumphant in heaven. 

“ But those who turn away from the door, 
we can only pray for them. In the examples 
of Korah, Dathan and Abiram, and other in- 
stances of the Bible, they may learn what fear- 
ful judgments are denounced against those who 
abide in heresy and schism, and for which 
their souls must answer at the Judgment 
Day.” 

“Well, I think it’s hard to be blamed for 
wishing to bring every body into the Church 
w^hether they want to come or not,” half pouted 
Hed; “however, I guess you’re right.” 

“I Ttnow you are right, Jamie,” added Jeanie; 
“ but I love my Church so much, I cannot 
bear those who have said and done ugly things 
against her, any more than I could love a per- 
son who had injured our mother !” 

“Put it in that light,” said James, half smil- 
ing, “ and I don’t know but that I should 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


235 


draw a sword were it needful, as quickly as 
!N^ed. However, let us return to the question 
you first asked — ^you wish a description of the 
mitre 

“Yes,” they replied. 

“In the year 1783, Dr. Samuel Seabury went 
out to England to obtain consecration as Bishop 
there. It was at a time when the relations be- 
tween England and America were uncertain. 
Without a special Act of Parliament the Arch- 
bishop could not consecrate a citizen of America. 
Delay was unavoidable, so Dr. Seabury deter- 
mined to obtain consecration from the Church 
of Scotland, whose Bishops, unlike those of Eng- 
land, were unfettered by connection with the 
State. In this he finally succeeded, and thus 
the first Bishop of our American Church was 
consecrated at Aberdeen, in Scotland, November 
14th, 1784.” 

“ Before you give a description of the mitre, 
Jamie,” interposed his mother, “ I will tell you 
an amusing anecdote relating to his first ser- 
vice in Hew Haven, soon after his return from 
England with his prelatic honors. Most of the 
people imagined a Bishop to be a wonderful 


236 


WHITSUNTIDE 


sort of person, that he must he called ‘ My Lord 
Bishop and many absurd stories got afloat about 
his pride and pretension. Of course the church 
was crowded to excess. When service was over, 
a man of the middle class in society met a 
friend who had been unable to obtain admit- 
tance. ‘Well, did you see him, and hear him 
preach V was the eager question. ‘ Oh yes,’ re- 
turned the fortunate spectator. ‘And was he 
so awful proud V ‘ Not a bit of it — why, he 
preached in his shirt sleeves P ” 

Jeanie kept a sober face, while her brother 
burst out laughing. “Did he really preach in 
his shirt sleeves, mamma?” she asked, in sur- 
prise. 

“ Oh, Jen, you’re more stupid than the poor 
man,” exclaimed Ned ; “ probably he had never 
seen a Bishop’s dress, so mistook the lawn 
sleeve for those of his shirt.” 

“The Bishop was a splendid-looking man,” 
continued Mrs. Kuthven ; “ your grandfather 
Buthven told me that he had often seen him 
wearing his mitre. Soon after it was placed in 
the library at Trinity College, your father and 
I were in Hartford, so we went with your 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


237 


grand father to see it. I shall never forget the 
description he gave of the first ordination in 
this country ; the sight of that mitre seemed to 
call up thoughts of his boyish days, for tears 
came into his eyes as he told of the impression 
made upon him and his young friends, by the 
Bishop’s solemn manner.” 

James resumed. “The Rev. Dr. Coxe ob- 
tained this mitre through the Rev. Dr. Seabury 
of Kew York, and placed it in the library of 
our college, with this inscription over it : ‘ Novi 
arbis Aposioli sit noinen perenne^ ” 

The mitre itself is of the usual shape, sym- 
bolical of the cloven tongues of fire which 
descended upon the Apostles. It is about eight 
inches high, and covered outside with black 
silk ; inside with white ; close to the top of 
the mitre, and all around it, runs a band half 
an inch wide, composed of three strips of sil- 
ver lace, and two of gold placed alternately ; 
around the bottom is a band of black velvet 
I trimming nearly an inch wide ; on the two 
points of the mitre are placed small steel 
crosses ; on front, worked in gold thread, there 
is a large cross, surrounded by a glory ; on the 


238 


WHITSUNTIDE 


back is worked a crown of tliorns. Pendent 
from each side are broad and long purple rib- 
bons, terminating in wide strips of gold lace. 
There, Ned — I am snre my description is worthy 
a woman’s particnlarity.” 

“Well, I wanted yon to be particular,” re- 
turned his brother.” “ For my part Pm very 
thankful to Dr. Coxe for putting it there, where 
all those who like can go and see it.” 

“And I,” added Jeanie, “hope with him that 
it will be kept 


‘till the moth shall wear 
Its comeliness to dust, 

Type of a crown that’s laid up where 
There is nor moth nor rust; 

Type of the Lord’s commission given 
To this, our Western shore; 

The rod of Christ — the keys of heaven, 
Through one to thousands more.’ ” 


“ Go on, Jeanie,” said Ned ; “ I like that 
ballad.” 

She continued — 

“They tell how Scotia keeps with awe 
Her old Regalia bright. 

Sign of her independent law, 

And proud imperial right; 

But keep this too for Scotland’s boast ; 

’Twill tell of better things, 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


239 


When long old Scotia shall have lost 
Those gewgaws of her kings ; 

And keep it for this mighty West, 

Till truth shall glorious be, 

And good old Samuel’s is contest 
Columbia’s primal see. 

’Tis better than a diadem. 

The crown that Bishop wore. 

Whose hand the rod of David’s stem 
The furthest westward bore.” 

‘‘ Thank yon, Jeanie,” said her brother. 
“Now, mother, what can I do for you? Jem 
looks as if he were going to sleep under Jeanie’s 
manipulations ! Give me something to keep me 
quiet.” 

“ Wind these skeins of silk for me.” 

‘ Ned took the reel which his mother gave 
him, and, fastening it to the table, commenced 
his work. They were quite silent for a few mo- 
ments ; at last Jeanie gave a deep sigh. 

“ What’s the matter ?” asked her mother and 
brothers, for Jem opened his eyes. 

She smiled and replied, “ I am sorry I dis- 
turbed you, Jem; but I was sighing to think of 
how little use I am to the world. You, Jem, 
will be a clergyman one of these days, and a 
good man, I’m sure ; then Ned — he will enter 
our army and be a general, perhaps — ” 


240 


WHITSUNTIDE 


‘‘ It will be a ‘ perhaps,’ ” interrupted her 
brother, laughing ‘‘Ah, Jeanie, my head will 
never be long enough to win such honor; more 
likely I shall be stationed in some fort out in 
Oregon, or down in the Everglades, to be killed 
by an Indian’s poisoned arrow !” 

His mother and sister shuddered. 

“Perhaps, after you have graduated, you will 
become disgusted with your profession, resign 
and choose civil engineering,” suggested his 
brother. 

“ Hever,” replied his brother in a more 
serious tone than he had spoken before ; “ I 
wish to enter the army. Don’t look so sober, 
mother” — he smiled as he looked up in her 
face — “you know I need not fear Indian ar- 
rows if I am doing my duty. How, Jeanie, go 
on — ^let us hear what else you were thinking 
about.” 

“ Don’t laugh at me, Hed,” his sister con- 
tinued ; “ but when I thought how famous you 
both might become one of these days, I, too, 
began to be ambitious !” 

“ You want to be a celebrated sort of per- 
son,” said James — “ Miss Yonge or Florence 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 2il 

Nightingale, Rosa Bonheur or Harriet Hos- 
mer 

“ Either of them,” replied she, smiling. 

Ned with his usual impetuosity interrupted 
her. “ I’d go in for Miss Nightingale if I were 
you, Jem ! I don’t believe there’s another 
woman in this world equal to her. By the way, 
mother, don’t forget to put her picture in my 
trunk when I go to West Point. 

‘‘Nor the ‘ Heir of Reddy ffe ’ in mine,” add- 
ed James. “Now, Jen, if in future years we 
have a war, and you choose to make a Night- 
ingale of yourself, I’ll leave Ned to promote 
your interests with the army; but if ever you 
write a book, I claim the privilege of correct- 
ing the grammar and spelling !” 

“ Now, that’s what I call ‘ modest assur- 
ance,’ ” exclaimed Jeanie, laughing and pulling 
Jem’s hair. “ I don’t think I shall require such 
services from either of you.” 

Mrs. Ruthven had been looking over a small 
volume of poems lying on her table ; at last she 
handed it to Jeanie, saying : “ Here is one of 
your favorite authors, read this verse aloud.” 

Jeanie took the book and read — 

21 


242 


WHITSUNTIDE 


“‘Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever. 

Do noble things, not dream them, all day long; 

And thus make life, death, and that vast forever 
One grand, sweet song.’ 

How well you understand me, mamma; mere 
idle dreaming is one of my faults.” 

I’ve watched you for eighteen years, my 
child,” said her mother, “ I ought to know some- 
thing about you. Yes, Jeanie, 3^011 must cease 
dreaming and learn to work ; each day will 
bring its share of duties, and every woman will 
find her safest and happiest course to be in a 
faithful performance of them. Do you remem- 
ber these verses in the Christian Year. 


“ ‘ If on our daily course our mind 
Be set, to hallow all we find. 

New treasures still, of countless price, 
God will provide for sacrifice. 

Old friends, old scenes, will lovelier be. 
As more of heaven in each we see ; 

Some softening gleam of love and prayer 
Shall dawn on every cross and care. 


The trivial round, the common task. 
Would furnish all we ought to ask; 
Room to deny ourselves — a road 
To bring us, daily, nearer God. 

Seek we no more ; content with these, 
Let present rapture, comfort, ease. 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


243 


As heaven shall bid them, come and go : — 

The secret this of rest below.’ 

“ Yes, dear Jeanie, it is more noble to live 
in this world, and yet not be of it, than to be 
the noblest, in the mere worldly sense of the 
word, in its estimation.” 

“ Then, mother, if I try to perform my simple 
duties faithfully, will you and papa think me 
as noble as Jem and Ned 

“ To be sure we will, my Jeanie,” replied 
her mother kissing her ; ‘‘ and remember the 
road to true nobleness always lies through self- 
sacrifice, even in the exercise of the promptings 
of benevolence, however urgent ; mental endow- 
ments, however brilliant; or literary achieve- 
ments, however great. 


“ ‘ Our watchword is duty, x 

Our motto is through!”’ 

exclaimed Ned, throwing his arms around her 
waist. Now you’re a good old sister, that’s a 
fact; but I’m afraid that you’ll forget I want 
those handkerchiefs hemmed this week.” 

Jeanie glanced at her work-box. “I’ll have 


244 


WHITSUNTIDE 


them done for yon, Ned,” she replied; “I con- 
fess I forgot them this afternoon.” 

“Or rather I have kept you at work on this 
head of mine,” said James, getting up from the 
lounge and going to the looking-glass. “ What 
a beauty I am with my half-closed eyes! I 
think I will say ‘ good- night’ when the dinner- 
bell rings, and eat nothing till morning. 

“Hark! there’s the dressing-bell now,” ex- 
claimed Jeanie ; “ is it possible that we have 
been talking four hours!” 

“Even so,” replied Ned, looking out at 
the old clock in the hall; “it is half past 
five.” 

“Another day gone,” murmured Jem to him- 
self, “ and I have studied so little ! Good-night, 
mother, I’m going to bed ; I must try and be 
well to-morrow.” 

Jeanie offered to bring him a cup of tea. 
“ Not now,” he replied ; “ when tea is made 
send me up a cup ; if I’m awake I will drink 
it.” 

“I’ll bring it to you myself,” returned his 
sister; “and I’ll try to be quiet, so as not to 
waken you if you are sleeping.” 


AT CEDAR -GROVE. 


245 


“ Thank you. Bid the others good-night for 
me, I’ll not go down stairs again.” 

Poor Effie looked disappointed when she was 
told that James had gone to bed; she was 
hoping that he would help Harry and herself 
act some ‘ charades.’ When her father saw her 
sober face, he proposed that they should all 
have a game of ’ ‘ Loto’ after dinner, and leave 
the charades until another night. The propo- 
sition pleased Effie, although she missed “ her 
Jamie.” 

Wednesday was a stormy day, but on Thurs- 
day the sun shone out again. In the afternoon 
James and his mother went out riding on horse- 
back. Hed warned his brother not to “go 
poking along coal-roads ;” in return for which 
Jem advised Hed not to try “a foot-bath in 
the Bash-Bish Falls.” Mr. Kuthven took the 
little children into the village of Dalehill, 
where he had some business to transact, while 
Jeanie and Hed rowed across the lake with 
Aunt Effie, and spent several pleasant hours 
in the woods. 

On Friday morning after church, James, who 
wished to look over some books belonging to 


246 


WHITSUNTIDE 


Mr. Rivers, walked with him to the Parsonage. 
Harry went also, for the Rector had promised 
him some roots of Madeira vine to plant in 
his own little garden at Cedar Grove. 

The Parsonage, a small Dutch cottage, all 
roof and garret, (as Hed once said,) built with 
little yellow bricks which came from Holland 
in 1699, was much older than the church. 
The five rooms it contained, all on the first 
fioor, were quite sufficient for the present Rec- 
tor and his old housekeeper. Mr. Rivers’s study 
was at the end of the short entrance hall, and 
extended the entire width of the house. With 
the exception of the garret which had never 
been finished off, it was the largest and pleas- 
antest room in the Parsonage. At the rear 
of the house where there was a fine view of 
the valley and the surrounding mountains, a 
door opened from the study directly into the 
garden, and the old porch over this entrance 
made it a delightful place to sit during summer 
evenings. 

By this door Mr. Rivers and James entered, 
leaving Hany to amuse himself in the gar- 
den. The Rector unlocked his book-cases, and 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


247 


J ames, selecting the volumes he wished, sat 
down to take notes from them. “Your father 
tells me you are looking up information re- 
specting Trinity Sunday, as Ned did for the 
Whitsun festival; are you going to touch upon 
the doctrine of the Trinity?” 

“ Oh no, sir,” replied James, quickly ; “ the 
question is too deep and mysterious for* such 
young students as we are. By and by I can 
search into the matter ; at present I think it is 
sufficient to repeat our creed; and I sometimes 
wish that we could emulate those knights of 
old, who drew their swords while they bowed 
at the name of our Saviour.” 

“And is that the reason we bow in the 
creed,” asked Harry, who had seated himself 
in the door-way unobserved until now by Mr. 
Rivers or James. 

“ Christians formerly bowed their heads at 
the name of Jesus,” answered the Rector, “to 
show their belief in His being ‘ very God of 
very God,’ in contradistinction to those who 
denied His Divinity, or at least the Son’s equal- 
ity with the Father, as have some heretics, not 
only in olden times, but even now.”* 


248 


WHITSUNTIDE 


“I thought divinity meant being God,” re- 
turned Harry. 

“So it does,” replied the Rector. “When you 
get older I will talk to you ; but you are too 
young, Harry, to understand why wicked men 
question whether Christ is God, or whether He 
is not.” 

“ Whether He is not exclaimed the boy, 
starting to his feet, the pensive expression in 
his dark eyes giving place to one of surprise 
and almost indignation ; “ Christ not God ! I 
should like to know who says He is not ! 
Why, who but God could rise from the dead 
all by Himself, and if He were a make-be- 
liever — ” 

“ ‘ Impostor,’ you mean, Harry.” 

“Well, impostor; if Christ were one, I don’t 
think God would have raised Him. Then the 
Hicene Creed says He is ‘very God of very 
God.’ ’i 

“ Yes, my bo^q remember that as you hope 
to be one of that happy band whom our blessed 
Saviour will acknowledge before His Father at 
the fearful day of Judgment, you must believe 
in His di’^nity. It is fearful to think that 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


249 


there are those calling themselves Christians in 
this our day, who forget that Jesus hath de- 
clared, ‘Whosoever, therefore, shall confess me 
before men, him will I confess also before my 
Father which is in heaven; but whosoever shall 
deny me before men, him will I also deny be- 
fore my Father which is in heaven who forget 
the voice of the Apostles in their epistles, the 
voice of the Church in her councils, directed 
by God’s Holy Spirit ; who forget the voice of 
all the wise and learned of the Church, from 
the day of Arius to this — but I forget to whom 
I am talking. Wait a few years, dear child, 
you are too young to question these awful mys- 
teries.” 

When Mr. Rivers ceased speaking, Harry 
slowly replied : “ When I was baptized, my own 
dear mother and father. Aunt and Uncle Ruth- 
ven, promised in the Creed, ‘ I believe in the 
Holy Catholic Church.’ When I am confirmed, 
and take upon me those vows, God grant I 
never dare question the truth of our Holy Faith !” 
He turned from the porch where he had stood, 
and walked towards the garden. 

“ How old is Harry ?” asked the Rector. 


250 


WHITSUNTIDE 


He will be ten on the Festival of St. John 
Baptist,” replied James. 

“ He is a very quiet and thoughtful child 
for his age; at times his questions and answers 
surprise me. . I presume being so much wdth his 
mother makes him different from other boys.” 

“Yes; and yet he is not lacking in spirit,” 
said James ; he is not what is sometimes called 
a ‘ girl-boy.’ ” 

“ I agree with you ; and I have often won- 
dered at the control he has over himself. His 
sparkling black eyes do not denote a naturally 
quiet disposition. But I fear I have interrupted 
you.” 

“ Your conversation has been too agreeable 
to be called an ‘interruption,’” replied James, 
smiling. Then he continued more seriously, 
“ Father said he did not care to have me 
argue upon the doctrine of the Trinity, but he 
wished me to collect a few proofs of the wor- 
ship of the Trinity in Unity during the first, 
second, and third centuries. I fear I must 
trouble you to assist me.” 

“The trouble you fear, James, will prove a 
pleasure to me,” returned the Hector. “ Lay 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


251 


aside your note-book, and let us have a little 
conversation on the subject. You remember 
that our Saviour, before He ascended into hea- 
ven, commanded His Apostles to go teach all 
nations, baptizing tliem in the name of the Tri- 
une God — ^.Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. After 
His ascension, we find that the Son, the second 
pemon of the Trinity, was worshipped ; for St. 
Stephen, the first martyr of whom we have any 
account in the JSTew Testament, breathed his last 
in a prayer to Christ. Then we find St. Paul 
professing he never baptized but in the name 
of Christ ; and his common form of blessing 
was, ‘The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and 
the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy 
Ghost be with you all,’ which blessing is still 
preserved in the Church, and in it you see the 
Son is mentioned even before the Father.” 

“ Thank you, Mr. Kivers,” interrupted James ; 
“but please tell me something about the early 
Church ; did not — ” 

“ Excuse me, James, but you must let me 
finish with the Bible before I answer any ques- 
tions. I will give you s^ix heads under which 
you can arrange all proofs of the divinity of 


252 


WHITSUNTIDE 


Christ which you may find in Holy Scripture : 
Divine titles are applied both to Christ and to 
God the Father. The same attributes are as- 
cribed to both. Christ performs the same ac- 
tions. He sustains the same relations. He is 
equal with the Father. He is an object of wor- 
ship. Hemember, James, all this is found in 
the Bible ; and the same line of reasoning which 
you pursue in examining the divinity of the 
Son, you may pursue in studying that of the 
Holy Ghost. But what was the question you 
were about to ask me 

“ Did not our Trisagion, or ‘ Thrice Holy,’ in 
the communion office, come down to us from 
Apostolic times ?” 

“ It is probable ; for there exists no ancient 
liturgy without it. But, James, if we go over 
all the accounts we have of the worship of our 
Saviour by the early Christians, we shall not 
have sufficient time to gather up the few proofs 
which your father wishes you to collect.” 

“ Please let me ask one more question,” plead- 
ed James, “ and then we will go on. I have 
seen drawings taken from the tombs of the 
early Christians in the catacombs at Borne — 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


253 


some of these tombs bear a triangle, others 
three fishes in the form of a triangle, and others 
a trefoil ; now, would these have been placed 
there if the Church disbelieved in the Trinity 
“ Certainly not ; you may cite them among 
other proofs of the belief in the Trinity in the 
early ages, for, although rudely traced, to us 
they appear as living witnesses, which time can 
never alter. I will now continue witli proofs 
from the writings and histoiy of those who lived 
in the second century. Pliny, a judge under 
the Emperor Trajan, taking the confessions of 
some revolting Christians, says that they de- 
' dared to him they used to meet together before 
daylight on a certain day, and sing praises to 
i Christ as to their God. Then you remember at 
I the martyrdom of St. Polycarp, the prayer he 
made at the stake, concluding it with a doxology 
[| to the whole Trinity. 

I “ Lucian the heathen, wLo lived in this same 
century, in one of his dialogues brings in a 
Christian instructing a catechumen, and makes, 
the catechumen ask the question — ‘ By whom 
shall I swear?’ The Christian answers, ‘By the 
God that reigns on high, the great, immortal,, 
22 


254 


WHITSUNTIDE 


heavenly God, and the Son of the Father, and 
the Spirit proceeding from the Father, One in 
Three, and Three in One.’ This evidently shows i 
that Lucian had learned from the Christians that > 
the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost were the ob- • 
ject of Divine worship. But I will give you ’ 
two more names. In the writings of Theophilus, 
Bishop of Antioch, we may easily trace that 
Christ was thought the object of Divine wor- 
ship. Then Clement of Alexandria, in his exhor- 
tation to the Gentiles, gives, in the conclusion 
to his book, a doxology to the whole Trinity.” 

“ May I not have my note-book ?” asked 
James. “ I will tiy to remember all you have 
said ; but as yet I am not quite so familiar with 
these subjects as yourself.” 

‘‘ I did not mean to monopolize so much of 
the conversation,” replied the Kector, with a 
smile ; “ but preaching is becoming ‘ second na- 
ture’ to me.” 

“Do not stop to apologize for that which 
gives me so much pleasure, Mr. Eivers ; please 
go on.” 

“The third century” — he paused for several 
moments, and then continued. “We have so 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


255 


many writers in this century, that it is rather 
difficult for me to decide whom to select. In 
the writings of St. Basil, he refers to a form of 
doxology used by Dionysius, Bishop of Alexan- 
dria, in which worship is ascribed to the three 
persons of the blessed Trinity. St. Cyprian of 
Carthage also speaks of the prayers of the 
Church as offered up to Christ, together with 
the Father, and tells us that Christ was wor- 
shipped in many places. One thing more, and 
I have done. The persecutions in this age were 
very great, and the martyrs who suffered prayed 
(as did St. Stephen) to Christ personally, and 
into His hands resigned their spirits. 

“ In a few years, James, you will enter the 
seminary, and then you will learn all about 
those fearful heresies which arose in the fourth 
century. I hope I have given you, this morn- 
ing, sufficient proof of the purity of doctrine 
in our holy Church during the first three ages.’’ 

“ Indeed you have, Mr. Kivers ; yet you 
know I never doubted it. Father wished me 
to collect these proofs, as a means of employ- 
ing my time usefully; but Fm sure he didn’t 
wish me to encroach upon yours.” 


256 


WHITSUNTIDE 


“ If I have been of service to you, James, my 
time has been passed in doing my duty ; so we 
ought to be mutually thankful. And now, can- 
not I prevail upon Harry and yourself, to stay 
and take an early dinner wdth me ? Your walk 
homeward will be a warm one this sunny morn- 
ing. If you will stay until evening, you may 
make some parochial calls with me this after- 
noon.” 

“ It would be a very great pleasure, I assure 
you,” replied James ; “ but I cannot stay to- 
day. Jeanie and Hed are going off on horse- 
back, and mother has my promise to take her 
and the children out driving — but w^e shall 
see each other at prayers this evening.” 

“ Then, perhaps, Harry can stay ?” urged the 
Hector ; “ and I will take good care of him until 
church time.” 

Harry had shaken hands with Mr. Hivers, and 
bid him “ good morning ;” but when the proposal 
for him to spend the day at the parsonage was 
made, he looked very pleadingly at his cousin, 
and said, “I am sure mamma would let me 
stay.” 

“Yery well,” replied Jem; “I will go home 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


257 


and tell Aunt Effie what a good whipping Mr. 
Rivers is going to give you.” 

“ And tell Ned,” said Harry, laughing, that 
I’m going to give Mr. Rivers a chance of eat- 
ing me !” 

“ Does Master Ned think I am in the habit 
of doing such things ?” asked the Rector. 

Harry then told how bashful his cousin had 
been the preceding Sunday, when his uncle 
asked Mr. Rivers to listen to Ned’s account of 
Whitsuntide. 

“Now I must be off,” said Jem. “Be a good 
boy, Harry, and we will take you home after 
service this evening.” 

James did not stop to open the gate — he 
vaulted over it — and a rapid walk soon brought 
him in sight of Cedar Grove. But Harry was 
not destined to return there that night. 

22 * 


258 


WHITSUNTIDE 


CHAPTER XI. 

“ What would these strangers ? Know their nainds, 

If they do speak our language, ’tis our will 
That some plain man recount their purposes. 

Know what they would.” 

Love’s Labor’s Lost. Act V., Scene 2d. 

On Saturday, the family, with the exception 
of Harry, were seated at the breakfast-table, 
when Jeanie opened the door and said, “Good 
morning !” 

“ Good morning, old lady !” exclaimed Hed. 
“ I wonder what will happen the next time you 
take a ride on hoi'seback ! Poor Aunt Effie has 
been crying all night, because you will not call 
on your favorite Undine to quiet this terrible 
storm, which has prevented Harry from coming 
home.” 

“ Your absurdity is only equalled by the length 
of your speech,” replied Aunt Effie, with a 
smile. 

“ Or by the very classical allusion,” interposed 
James. 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


259 


“ I am quite at ease about Harry,” continued 
Mrs. Howard ; ‘‘I know be will be well cared 
for ; my only regret is, that we are having 
another violent storm this morninsr.” 

Just then a vivid flash of lightning darted be- 
fore the window, and the thunder which burst 
over the valley, rolled back in echoes among 
the mountains. Jeanie caught hold of her 
father’s arm, and held it tightly until the heavy 
peal died away, then sank down in a chair, 
saying, “ Indeed I am not frightened, but my 
escape yesterday has made me nervous.” 

“ I do not wonder at it, my poor child,” said 
her mother ; “ come sit here by me, and pin 
your shawl more closely — you have taken a 
severe cold.” 

Jeanie did as her mother wished ; and, turn- 
ing to Hed, asked, “ In what manner, or by 
what incantation, do you propose I should sum- 
mon Undine ?” 

“ I’m sure I don’t know,” replied her brother. 
“When I spoke, I was only thinking what a 
rapture you were in on the lake yesterday morn- 
ing, while we were fishing.” 

“ Say ‘ floating’ instead of ‘ fishing,’ ” answered 


260 


WHITSUNTIDE 


Jeanie ; ‘‘and I’m certain QYQn.you let go your 
line when I read the story of poor Undine’s 
death. Effie, too, laid her hands in the little 
ripples which glided about our boat, and asked 
if the beautiful Undine had sent them to us.” 

“ Ah, Ued,” said Jem, “ I’m thinking you 
only wanted to show off a little knowledge be- 
fore us !” 

“Well, perhaps I did; I try to follow the ex- 
ample my elder brother sets me.” 

“If your head wasn’t so soft, I’d beg moth- 
er’s permission to throw this biscuit at it!” re- 
torted Jem. 

Another peal of thunder followed a flash of 
lightning, and Ned exclaimed, “ Come, Jem, I 
don’t mean to talk nonsense while this thunder- 
storm lasts; I feel as if I ought to be quiet.” 

“You are right, my son,” said his* father, 
walking towards the window where Ned stood; 
“it seems as if all earthly sounds should be 
hushed when we remember by whose command 
that lightning flashes from the cloud.” 

“ The storm is too violent to last very long,” 
remarked James, who was standing behind his 
mother and Aunt Effie at the other window. 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


261 


“As soon as the heavy rain is over Tim can 
go for Harry.” 

“ Yesterday morning who would have thought 
that such a thunder-storm as the one we had 
yesterday afternoon was in store for us,” said 
Mrs. Ruthven. 

“It rained so hard during the night I cer- 
tainly thought we should have clear w^eather to- 
day.” 

“ The sun will be shining before noon, Aunt 
Effie,” replied James; “but, mother, tell me 
about Jeanie’s ride; I hear that Hed didn’t go 
with her.” 

“ No ; after your father sent you to Wood- 
neath with Kipton, I told Ned he had better 
take a place in the wagon instead of riding 
the colt, and let Jeanie follow us alone — but 
here she comes to give us an account of it her- 
self,” and Mrs. Kuthven moved aside so as to 
make a place for Jeanie. 

“I kept behind the wagon most of the way,” 
continued his sister; “but the dust was so an- 
noying that I determined to dash ahead. As 
I left Dalehill village, the storm came up ; 
thinking it would only be a slight shower I 


262 


WHITSUNTIDE 


galloped on, trusting to the thickness of my 
riding habit to keep me from getting wet ; but 
big drops fell faster and faster, and I very soon 
found myself, as Ned would say, taking the 
largest kind of a shower-bath. You remember 
that great elm tree on the meadow-road he- 
tween here and Dalehill?” 

James nodded assent. 

‘‘Well, the branches were so thick that the 
rain didn’t come through, so I thought it would 
be a nice place to take shelter; Percy, how- 
ever, didn’t like the idea of stopping there, for 
the moment I tried to make him stand still, he 
backed, and reared, and walked into the rain. 
My first thought was to whip him into mind- 
ing me ; but before I had determined what 
to do, the dear old pony started off on a run. 
Oh, Jem ! I cannot describe the frightful crash- 
ing, splitting, rushing, rolling noise that seemed 
to burst forth the moment I left the spot! It 
required all my strength to curb Percy, and as 
soon as I had him in hand, I turned to look 
behind me — the lightning had split that mag- 
nificent tree all the way down, and torn off the 
largest limb, the very one under which I want- 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


263 


ed to stop) and whirled it over the fence to 
the meadow on the opposite side of the road ! 
Only think what a fearful death mine might 
have been I” 

Her mother shuddered. “What narrow es- 
capes Hed and yourself have had, Jeanie ! It 
will be Jem’s turn next.” 

“ Jem is not particularly gifted with thought- 
lessness,” said his sister, smiling. “ He don’t 
do silly things.” 

“I hope you do not mean to place me in 
contrast to 

“ ‘ Our sovereign lord, the king, 

Whose word no man relied on ; 

Who never said a foolish thing, 

Yet never did a wise one.’” 


“O, Jamie I what are you repeating?” ex- 
claimed little Effie, who had just left her father’s 
side. “Papa has been reciting something beau- 
tiful about the Alps to Hed— it wasn’t such 
poetry as you are saying.” 

“ Can’t you remember the whole of what fa- 
ther said, Euphie ?” asked J ames. 

“Hot if you laugh at me, Jamie. Perhaps 
the poetry you were saying was good enough 


264 


WHITSUNTIDE 


for what you were talking about ; but papa was 
describing the thunder in the Alps, and then 
he said — I can’t remember the lines.” 

“Are these they — 

“ ‘ Far along, 

From peak to peak, the rattling crags among. 

Leaps the live thunder ! Not from one lone cloud, 

But every mountain now hath found a tongue ; 

And Jura answers, through her misty shroud. 

Back to the joyous Alps, who call to us aloud !’ ” 


“Yes, yes,” replied his little sister. “Jura 
makes me think of Taconic. Listen, and you 
will hear when the next peal comes.” Effie 
got up in the chair and looked out of the win- 
dow. The storm had abated, but flashes of light- 
ning still sent the thunder echoing through the 
hills, and heavy black clouds hung over the 
valley. The lake was covered with white foam, 
and waves dashed high upon the shore. “ See 
those waves, Jeanie,” said little Efiie, pointing 
to the lake ; “ they remind me of Kiihleborn, 
Undine’s naughty uncle.” 

“ And are you going to try to still them, like 
another little water-sprite ?” asked Jem, as he 
lifted her up, kissed her forehead, and put her 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


265 


down on the chair again; then turned to leave 
the room. 

But Elhe called him back ; she wanted him 
to arrange some charades, which she and Harry 
could act in the afternoon. “ Come in the 
school-room,” she said ; “ we shall be all alone 
there.” 

Sunshine did not appear, as Jem had pre- 
dicted ; the day was dark, damp, and cold. 
When the rain ceased, Tim drove to the Par- 
sonage for Harry. Although the little fellow 
had enjoyed himself, he was glad to return to 
his mother ; it was the first night he had ever 
been separated from her. Tlie charade which 
Effie liked best, required the assistance of her 
brothers and sisters, as w^ell as her cousin ; so 
they all spent the morning in the school-room, 
rehearsing their parts. Hed got Jeanie’s paint- 
box, and made several pretty tickets, which 
Efiie sold to her father and aunt for a kiss, but 
her mother gave her three oranges. 

The parlor door was opened at four o’clock 
that afternoon, and Effie placed Tim there to 
receive the tickets. When the audience were 
seated, Tim rang a little bell, and then the cur- 
23 


266 


WHITSUNTIDE 


tain rose. The scene was a room locked up for 
the night, for the window was barred, and the 
candles on the table put out. On the sofa, in 
one corner, some one was lying as if fast asleep ; 
this they soon discovered to be Ned, for he 
snored so loud that he could not help laughing. 
In a few moments, two robbers (Harry and 
Effie) entered this room, with a dark lantern. 
Yery softly, one of them bent down, and made 
believe pick the lock of the closet door ; then 
he helped himself to the silver spoons and forks, 
and put them in a bag. The other robber crept 
up to the dressing-table, and, finding a ring 
and little silver vinagrette, slipped them in his 
pocket. They then went towards the bed, and 
tried to get something from under the pillow — 
it was a watch — but, before they could hide it, 
the master of the house awoke, and jumped out 
of bed, as if to chase them — of course, they 
took to their heels. 

If Ned had caused laughter by his snoring, 
it was redoubled, now, that he stood before the 
audience in his night-costume. A long white 
night-dress came almost to his feet, and, as he 
had put it on over his coat, it looked like a 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


267 


straight jacket, it was so tight for him. On 
his head, he wore a bright yellow flannel night- 
cap, which Jeanie had trimmed with bows of 
pink ribbon. There he stood, shaking and trem- 
bling, frightened out of his wits, while he reached 
out his hand towards a pistol and sword, lying 
on a chair near him ; but drew it back, as if 
afraid to touch them. “What a bold soldier- 
boy !” exclaimed a voice behind the scenes. The 
curtain fell, just as IS’ed threw his night-cap in 
the direction of the voice. 

“ The first part of the word has been given — 
can you guess it ?” asked James, coming be- 
fore the curtain. 

“ ‘ Rob^ ” said his father. 

“ So far, so good,” shouted ITed, from the other 
side. 

In a few moments, the curtain rose again. 
This time, it represented the public room of an 
inn. There stood the landlady, (Jeanie,) with 
an immense bunch of keys hanging at her side. 
From her attitude, and the expression of her 
face, it seemed as if she had been scolding the 
maid-servant, (Effie,) who was wiping the dust 
from the window. James, as landlord, stood 


268 


WHITSUNTIDE 


near a door, inviting two travellers (Ned and 
Harry) to spend the night at his house. 

When the curtain fell, and James came 
to ask if they had guessed the word, Jeanie 
thrust her head from behind the curtain, and, 
smiling at her father, said, “ I hope the audience 
will appear sufficiently mystified, in guessing 
the words, for the sake of encouraging the 
younger members of the family, who begin to 
fear the charade is too easy.” 

Mr. Ruthven understood the hint, and Effie 
and Harry were delighted when James came 
back, and told them papa had not guessed 
aright. 

The third time the curtain rose, the laughter 
was instantaneous, for Jeanie sat rocking an 
old cradle, into which Jem had squeezed him- 
self, and, with a baby’s cap on his head, he 
sat playing with a rattle and a large pap-spoon. 
Effie and Harry, both dressed as little girls, were 
sitting on the floor, amusing themselves with 
dollies, while Ned, dressed like a little boy, 
a frilled ruffie about his neck, and his trowsers 
tucked inside of his boots, was playing with a 
new whip, driving a pair of hoi'ses — two chairs, 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


269 


turned upside down. It was evident that he 
was the only son in the family. 

“ Is ‘ labif the right word asked Mr. Euth- 
ven, when Jem came to ask them if they had 
discovered it. 

“Tim guesses it’s Hittle exclaimed the 

old !nan, looking in, from the parlor door, his 
eyes fairly dancing with delight. 

“ ‘ Son^ ” suggested Aunt Effie. She was 
• right. 

The fourth scene represented the boys in 
sailor costume. Jem, holding the model of a 
ship, seemed to be explaining the different ropes 
to Harry, the youngest sailor-boy. On one side 
of the room was a large coil of ropes, on which 
Hed sat, kicking against the floor with his heels, 
and whistling “ A Wet Sheet and a Flowing Sea.” 
Their clothes, tied up in blue cotton handker- 
chiefs, were placed on the ground near them. 

“ Guess them’s the ‘ (yrew^ ” said Tim, before 
the curtain fell. 

“That’s right,” replied Effie and Harry. 

“Only one more word, and then you shall 
have the whole,” said James. 

This time, Jeanie, in an old dress of her grand- 
23 * 


270 


WHITSUNTIDE 


mother’s, sat sewing by the window; Effie, and 
Harry dressed like a little girl, were also stitch- 
ing away. By and by, Effie dropped her work, 
but the old lady shook a finger at her, as if to 
reprove her want of diligence. 

“ Father hasn’t guessed it,” said James, when 
he returned, behind the curtain. 

“They will guess it, this time,” exclaimed 
Jeanie, laughing, as she arranged her brothers’ 
dresses. 

The last scene was a tableaux. At a little 
table, spread with nuts and different kinds of 
fruit, sat a man, dressed in the skins of wild 
beasts. One side of him stood his dog. Dash, 
on his hind legs, his fore paws resting on Jem’s 
shoulder. 

“What is that other animal?” asked Aunt 
Effie, pointing to what looked like a roll of 
white goat-skin, on the floor. 

“It’s meant to be a goat — but my head has 
dropped off!” replied Hed’s voice. 

The curtain fell, for a moment, and the audi- 
ence heard suppressed laughter ; but, when it 
rose again, there stood an admirable goat, beard 
and all. 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


271 


“Where did you get your parrot, Bobinson 
Crusoe asked Mr. Kuthven. 

“You’ve guessed the whole of our charade, 
papa !” exclaimed Effie, running into the parlor. 

“N^ow, Jem and Xed, come and show your- 
selves,” said Jeanie. “I think I deserve credit 
for inventing such good dresses for you.” 

“ I’m so pinned up that I can’t move, with- 
out losing my skin,” replied Jem, laughing. 

“My head will tumble off, if I stir,” added 
Ned. 

“Well, if the mountain will not come to 
Mohammed— we can do as Mohammed did,” 
said mamma. . They accordingly went up to the 
two young gentlemen, who were wrapped in 
the various sleigh-robes. The goat’s head was 
made of paper ; the parrot was cloth, and paint- 
ed green. “ You make an admirable costumer, 
Jeanie,” continued her mother, “and Jem has 
given us a very good charade ; but I suppose 
we must thank Effie for our afternoon’s amuse- 
ment.” 

“ Oh, I’ve had as much fun as any one,” 
replied the little girl ; “ now, I will help Katie 
set the dinner table.” 


272 


WHITSUNTIDE 


“So will I,” added Harry. 

James and Hed carried the dresses up stairs, 
and Jeanie put them carefully away. Then she 
went to her mother’s dressing-room, where the 
brothers were already sitting beside mamma. 

“ Come in, dear old pet 1” exclaimed Hed, as 
his sister opened the door. “We are trying 
to get up a grand parting crying-spell.” 

“A soldier! and talk of crying!” said Jeanie, 
kneeling down and looking up in his face. 

“ Havn’t soldiers got hearts, as well as other 
people?” he replied, giving her cheek a slight 
pinch. 

“ Oh, stop pinching, or you’ll make me cry !” 

She rubbed her cheek, and tried to squeeze 
his hand. 

She succeeded, for Hed began rubbing his 
hand, and saying he was glad that every 
young lady he met didn’t adopt a similar pun- 
ishment. 

“ I hope you don’t give them similar cause,” 
said his mother smiling. 

“ Oh of course I do, my dearest mamma — j 
whenever I get a chance !” ! 

“ Honsense !” exclaimed Jeanie. “Just look j 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


273 


out at the sunset, and tell me if you’re not 
ashamed of such absurdity, on this, the last 
Saturday evening we spend with each other for 
a long, long time.” 

The storm-clouds, which had floated over the 
valley during the day, parted above Taconic 
as the sun went down, and then their gray folds 
caught up the deep crimson die and wrapped 
themselves as in a veil of Are. Eastern clouds 
passed on, laden with splendor flung over to 
them from the west, and their very shadows 
seemed shadows no longer, as they crept along 
the purple mountains. Three rays of pure gold- 
en light streamed upward from the sun, whose 
brightness had been shrouded all day long — flt 
emblems did they seem of that mystery, before 
which our holy Church, throughout all the 
world, would bend in wonder and adoration on 
the following day. 


“Eternal One, Almighty Trine! 

(Since Thou art ours, and we are thine) 
By all thy love did once resign, 

“By all the grace thy heavens still hide. 
We pray Thee, keep us at Thy side. 
Creator, Saviour, strengthening Guide!” 


274 


WHITSUNTIDE 


Their mother’s voice whispered these lines, as 
she stood beside her children, wdio w^ere kneel- 
ing in the window, watching the sunset. She 
bent over the young faces, lifted towards hers 
as she ceased speaking, and listened to the 
murmured words, “Dear, dear mother.” 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


275 


CHAPTER XII. 

“ Three solemn parts together twine 
In harmony’s mysterious line; 

Three solemn aisles approach the shrine: 

Yet all are one — together all, 

In thoughts that awe but not appal, 

Teach the adoring heart to fall.” 

Keble. 

“If we do meet again, why, we shall smile; 

If not, why then this parting was well made.” 

Julius C^sar, Act v.. Scene i. 

Alone, in St. Mary’s Church, the Huthven 
children remained, when the evening service 
'was ended. Their parents had driven home, 
but they lingered behind to enjoy one more 
walk, before parting from each other. 

The fading light streamed down through the 
western rose-window', flooding the dark gray 
walls in gold and crimson splendor, but shadows 
deepened above the chancel-arch, veiling its 


276 


WHITSUNTIDE 


threefold carvings, until it appeared like one 
impenetrable band of darkness spanning the 
gorgeous haze which floated beneath. In what- 
ever direction the children turned, they saw the 
symbols of the Divine mystery, which they had 
that day been called to adore ; in the triple 
breadth of nave and aisles, the triple length of 
nave, chancel, and sanctuary; in the three steps 
leading from the nave to the chancel, and in 
the three lancets joined together, in one eastern 
window. But shadows were deepening in the 
transepts, and creeping slowly up to the rafters 
and corbels of the roof, so, in silence, the chil- 
dren turned from those hallowed walls, and 
passed out beneath the dappled sky of the early 
summer evening. 

‘‘ Jamie,” murmured Effie, as she held his 
hand tightly in hers — “ won’t you tell Harry 
and me something about Trinity Sunday, as we 
walk home ? I had rather listen to you, now, 
than this evening.” 

“So would I,” said Harry. “Cousin Jeanie 
and Hed are close behind us ; they can hear 
you, too.” 

“ But perhaps you want papa to tell you if 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


277 


you’re wrong,” added Effie, without giving James 
a chance to speak. 

“ Oh no, Euphie,” he replied ; “ last night 
papa and I talked over the subject, after you 
had gone to bed. I think I can remember 
enough to interest you.” 

“ And me, too, brother Jem !” exclaimed Ned, 
utterly disregarding his grammar. “ I must 
make the most of the information I get in re- 
gard to the Church, for I’ll not have a chance 
of learning much about such matters at the 
Point.” 

“ Why, havn’t they got a Church there ?” 
asked Effie. 

“ To be sure there is,” answered Jeanie. “ The 
one just below the Point, at Buttermilk Falls, 
is a little beauty — ^you would like the name, 
Effie — Holy Innocents.” 

If papa brings you to West Point this sum- 
mer, you will see it,” added Ned. “Now, Jem, 
we’re ready to listen.” 

“Yery well. In the first place, let me say 
that the term ‘Trinity,’ by which this mystery 
is called, w^as first brought into use by Theo- 
philus of Antioch, in the year 150.” 


278 


WHITSUNTIDE 


So Trinity Sunday was appointed at that 
time,” said Ned. 

“ Jumping at conclusions, as usual, Ned,” re- 
plied James. “ This festival was not appointed 
at that time, for the early Church, thinking that 
their belief in the holy Trinity was plainly set 
forth by the doxologies and creeds of their daily 
service, did not deem it necessary to set apart 
one day, in particular, for commemorating this 
mystery. But about the year 828, that there 
might be no room for heretical cavilling, we 
find that Gregory lY. appointed a distinct fes- 
tival in honor of the adorable Trinity. Diflferent 
Churches, however, appropriated dififerent days 
for its observance; some setting apart the oc- 
tave of Pentecost, some the Sunday next before 
Advent, while by others it was wholly neglected. 
The observance of Trinity Sunda}^, in England, 
is said to have been first established by Arch- 
bishop Becket, soon after his consecration. 

“The council of Arles, held in the year 1260, 
made a strong eflPort to obtain uniformity through- 
out the Christian world in the celebration of 
this festival, as also did John XXII., 1334, but 
in vain. It was not until the year 1405, when 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


279 


Benedict XIIL succeeded in establisliing the 
day in the place it occupies in the present 
Calendar. In the Greek Church, Monday in 
Whitsun-week is set apart for this festival, the 
Sunday following being with them the festival 
of All Saints. 

“We are told that one reason why this Trinit}^ 
festival was placed after Whit-Sunday, was be- 
cause our Saviour had no sooner ascended into 
heaven, than the Holy Ghost descended upon the 
Church, thereby giving them a knowledge of 
the glorious and incomprehensible Trinity, which, 
before then, was not so clearly known.” 

“Well, Jamie,” said Effie, her little face 
screwed up in a most puzzled expression, “ I 
don’t understand about the Trinity, but I know 
the three things my creed teaches me to believe.” 

“ That is quite enoqgh for a little head like 
yours to hold,” replied her brother. “ Now, will 
you repeat to me what they are ?” 

Effie folded her hands, and, when her sister 
and brothers had gathered around her, answer- 
ed— “ ‘ First, I learn to believe in God the Father, 
who hath made me, and all the world. Secondly, 
in God the Son, who hath redeemed me, and 


280 


WHITSUNTIDE 


all mankind. Thirdly, in God the Holy Ghost, 
who sanctifieth me, and all the people of God.’ 
Is that right, Jamie?” 

“ Yes, darling — now look here.” 

“ Oh, what beautiful clover ! What is that for ?” 

The little girl put out her hand to take it, hut 
James held it firmly, saying, “ Look at these 
three leaves, dear Euphie, see how perfect each 
one in itself is, and yet they are joined but to one 
stem, and these three leaves make, in fact, but 
one leaf.”^’®^ 

“ Oh, Jamie, now I understand what you 
would teach me !” then, in a very reverend tone, 
she added, “ God is three persons, but one God.” 

They walked on, Effie and Harry attaching 
themselves to Hed, while Jeanie and James fob 
lowed more slowly. “ You adapted St. Patrick’s 
story very nicely, in explaining to Effie just 
now,” said Jeanie. 

‘‘ I must tell her that it was not an original 
idea of mine,” replied James, ‘‘or she will, one 
of these days, deny that St. Patrick ever thought 
of it ! I intended to say a few words about the 
lessons for to-day, but I see she is quite satisfied 
with what she has already learned.” 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


281 


“ It is better to teacli a little at a time ; I 
often think children take a dislike to learning, 
because too much is forced upon them.” 

“Perhaps you’re right, Jeanie, I will try and 
remember what you say, when I have a parish 
and Sunday-school. You shall help me teach 
the children.” 

“And keep house for you, too, I suppose,” 
she smilingly replied. “ Then, when Hed is 
ordered off with his regiment, I will have to 
write long letters to him, and when Effie is a 
few years older, I must teach her various 
things ; and my own studies must be kept up 
— oh ! what a busy old lady I shall have to be ! 
But, Jem, when I spoke of children having too 
much knowledge forced upon them, I did not 
refer to myself — now, I should like to hear what 
you were going to say about the lessons to 
Effie.” 

“You, doubtless, know as much about them 
as I do,” answered her brother, “ so we will help 
each other. Do you recollect the reasons Mr. 
Bivers gave, in his sermon to-day, why the doc- 
trine of the Trinity was not so clearly delivered 

to the Jews ?” 

24 * 


282 


WHITSUNTIDE 


‘‘Yes, being surrounded by idolatrous nations, 
they might have fallen in the error of mistaking 
it for a plurality of gods, and they were espe- 
cially enjoined to remember the Unity of God.” 

“ In the very first verse of the first lesson, this 
morning,” continued James, “we read, ‘In the 
beginning God made heaven and earth.’ If you 
understood Hebrew, Jeanie, you would see that 
the word translated God is in the plural, while 
the verb is singular, to express the plurality of 
persons in the Unity of the Godhead ; and when 
man is created, God says, ‘Let us make man,’ 
showing that, so to speak, there was a consulta- 
tion of action among the several persons of the 
Godhead. 

“ Again, both in the Psalms and in St. John’s 
Gospel, we read that by the Word of God were 
the heavens made, and you know how distinctly 
St. John tells us ‘ the Word was made flesh, and 
dwelt among us,’ and ‘ without Him was not 
any thing made that was made.’ In the second 
morning lesson, we are told of the baptism of the 
Son, the voice of the Father, and the descent of 
the Holy Ghost ; and the second evening lesson 
declares the Father, the Word and the Spirit to 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


283 


be one in essence. JS’ow, Jeanie, as I have 
spoken about the lessons, I shall ask yoii for 
the epistle and gospel.” 

“And I will recall, as nearly as I can, what 
Mr. Rivers said of them in his sermon. In the 
first place, he told us they were the same which, 
in the ancient liturgies, were assigned to the 
octave of Whit-Sunday. In the epistle, we have 
the threefold ascription of praise to the Trinity, 
‘ Holy, holy, holy. Lord God Almighty, wLich 
was, and is, and is to come.’ Then the gospel 
— ^I do not remember so well about that ; I know 
it is an account of the conversation between our 
Saviour and Hicodemus, and God, the Holy 
Spirit, is set forth as being that Divine Spirit 
by whom we are regenerated in the waters of 
baptism.” 

“Thijik again, Jeanie — are not the words of 
our Saviour in the gospel mysterious?” 

Jeanie shook her head — “You must recall 
them to me, I have forgotten them, Jamie.” 

James resumed— “ God the Son, is on earth, 
doing miracles which, as the Jewish Rabbi de- 
clares, could not be done unless God the Father 
was with Him. Then, while talking with Rico- 


284 


WHITSUNTI]?E 


demus, God the Son declared Himself to be in 
heaven — ‘no man hath ascended up to heaven, 
but He that came down from heaven, even the 
Son of Man which is in heaven’ — who but God 
could be omnipresent?” 

“ I do not see how people dare dispute about 
the Trinity, simply because they don’t understand 
its mystery. The Bible commands us to 'believe^ 
never are we required to understand. Like 
little children, we must have faith*, and, with 
the father of the maniac child, we must pray, 
‘ Lord, I believe ; help Thou mine unbelief.’ ” 

He ceased. James seemed wrapped in his own 
thoughts, so they walked on in silence for several 
moments. “What is the cause of that sigh?” 
asked Jem, turning and looking at his sister. 

“ I didn’t mean to sigh — was thinking what 
a miserable memory mine is, and wishing, it was 
as good as yours. I really believe my principle 
talent consists in a readiness to forget every thing 
I learn!” 

“ Ah, no,” replied James, smiling at his 
sister’s sweeping conclusion — “ you have one 
other talent, that of thinking yourself a degree 
more stupid than your brothers.” 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


285 


I didn’t say so.” 

“Not to-day, but you have often acted as if 
you thought so, and I’ve been going to speak 
of it several times, but other things have pre- 
vented. Now, Jeanie, drive all such nonsense 
out of your head — don’t sigh your breath away 
in regretting, ‘I can’t do this,’ or ‘I can’t do 
that,’ just make up your mind that you can do 
whatever you please, begin, don’t stop to think 
about success, only persevere, and success will 
crown your efforts.” 

“ It sounds very easy when you talk about 
perseverance — but just take this simple wish of 
mine : I want a memory like yours— how can 
I succeed in making one ?” 

“ I suppose you expect me to write out a 
recipe for you, in cookery-book fashion,” replied 
James. 

“ Not if like most cookery-book recipes — they 
are good for nothing,” returned his sister. 

“I’ll give you one which I have tried,” an- ^ 
swered James. “You remember how I used to 
spend one or two hours every day in learning 
poetry, and sometimes prose, by heart ?’" 

Jeanie assented. 


286 


WHITSUNTIDE 


“ Do you know I merely did it all to strengthen 
my memory ? Yes,” he continued, not heeding 
her exclamation of surprise, I wished to be 
able to remember what I heard or read, so I 
kept my brain steadily at work thinking, until 
by an effort of will, as it were, I have learned 
to retain the thoughts I meet with. It is no 
easy task, Jeanie, and if you are at all inclined 
to shrink, there will be no use in beginning.” 

“ What are you going to begin ?” shouted 
Hed. ‘‘Here you are, walking right past the 
lodge-gate — ^you’ll begin to get tired before you 
reach Dalehill !” 

“James was telling me of a way to strengthen 
my memory,” repeated Jeanie, earnestly. 

“And showing you how to strengthen it by 
forgetting the way home !” 

“You’re always making fun of every thing, 
Hed,'^’ said Jeanie, at the same time joining in 
the laugh wdth her brothers. 

“Well, I’ll not make fun any more ; but when 
I’m away I will think of you ‘ a-strengthening 
your memory’ by walking past your home, ‘ find- 
ing it no easy task’ to get to Dalehill — feeling 
‘ inclined to shrink’ from attempting it — and dis- 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


287 


covering, at last, that there is ‘ no use in begin- 
ning’ to feel tired. Stop laughing, Jem. Let’s 
see if our memory-strengthened sister can find 
the way to the house !’’ 

“If it wasn’t Sunday evening, I’d chase you 
into the lake!” exclaimed his sister. 

“ Perhaps I’d strengthen my memory by go- 
ing,” returned Ned. 

When they reached the piazza, their parents 
were standing there. “We were just wonder- 
ing what kept Jem and yourself so long, Jeanie,” 
said her mother. 

“They would have walked on, to Dalehill, 
if it hadn’t been for me,” exclaimed Ned. “Jem 
was expounding one of his theories on the sub- 
ject of mental strengthening plasters, and Jeanie 
was shrinking from clapping one on her peri- 
cranium !” 

“My dear Edward, remember what day this 
is,” said his father, seriously ; “ you must be more 
careful about idle words, children ; it is fearful to 
think of the account we must one day give of 
them all. However, I will not blame you to- 
night, my dear ones ; — now run up stairs, and 
take off your things— tea will soon be ready.” 


288 


WHITSUNTIDE 


The evening hours glided rapidly away — more 
rapidly, it seemed, than ever before, to the family 
at Cedar Grove. IN’ed was the only one who 
seemed to keep up his usual flow of spirits ; at 
times, even he looked sad. But he was going 
among new scenes ; he would see new faces — 
form new friendships ; so the excitement made 
thoughts of parting less hard to bear. With 
James, it was different. He had to return to 
the village of Hartford, every corner of which 
seemed familiar to him. The dear face of his 
mother, the thoughtful love of his sister, and 
the kind sympathy of Aunt Eflie, little Euphie’s 
joyous face and fairy footstep, all, all but mem- 
ory would be lost to him, when he left his home. 
He did not hear his father’s voice calling to him, 
for thoughts like these were hurrying through his 
mind. But Efiie laid her little hands in his, 
and whispered — “ Come, Jamie ; papa says come 
up to the library ; we will have prayers there — 
he wants us to sing 

“ ‘ 0 holy, holy, holy Lord, 

Bright in Thy deeds and in Thy Name’ — 


Listen — Jeanie is playing the organ.' 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


289 


James did not speak, but held fast the dim- 
pled fingers, and followed whither she led him. 

“ 0 God Triune, to thee we owe, 

Our every thought, our every song; 

And ever may Thy praises flow 
From saint and seraph’s burning tongue.” 

Thus ended the hymn, but the organ caught up 
the air, and rolled in joyous symphony through- 
out the room, until it seemed as if distant music 
had taken up the strain, so quietly did it waft 
away into silence. And then, opening the Bible,, 
their father read of those whom our Saviour has- 
called “Blessed.” The children listened to the- 
glorious rewards promised by Christ Himself — 
and perhaps the elder sister and brothers silently 
prayed that they also might one day be num- 
bered among the “ poor in spirit,” the “ meek,” 
the “ merciful,” the “ pure in heart,” and the 
“ peace-makers.” 

When prayers were ended, Effie said, “ Good-- 
night.” As she passed between Jame& and* 
Hed, she threw a little arm around the neck 
of each and drew their heads down upon her 
breast. Those around did not hear the- words^ 
she whispered, but as she withdrew her armsj 
25 


290 


WHITSUNTIDE 


and glided quickly from the room, they saw 
the bright glance which passed between the 
brothers as they clasped each others’ hands. 

Aunt Effie and Harry rose to go. “Shall I 
see you again ?” she asked of J ames, “ or will 
you leave with Hed at four o’clock to-morrow 
morning ?” 

“ I go with father and Hed at least as far as 
Cold Spring, so I must bid you ‘good-by,’ to- 
night. I’ve no idea of asking you to a three- 
o’clock breakfast.” 

“ Maybe I’ll come without an invitation,” she 
answered, “ however, kiss Harry, he will be un- 
fit for his studies if he gets up before daylight.” 

“ Oh, Harry, you must stop growing !” ex- 
claimed Jem, making believe lift him from the 
ground. “ I shall not be able to lift you as I 
used to do. Good-by.” 

“ Oh, what a kiss that was !” exclaimed Hed, 
doing his best to give one equally loud to his 
aunt. “I shall remember it every time the 
cannon is fired at the Point.” 

“It will be a pity to waste your small amount 
of memory on a thing of so little importance,” 
said Jeanie, laughing at him. 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


291 


‘‘Then, dear sister, you shall teach me how 
to strengthen my memory. But you’ll not deny 
me the felicity of thinking of you whenever I 
look at the thirty-two pounders I” 

“ May your sword be as sharp as your wit !” 
exclaimed his sister. 

‘‘ But not quite as harmless as yours,” retorted 
Ned. 

“You’re right, my good brother — more cut- 
ting, and more ready when occasion requires.” 

“Ah, my children,” interposed their mother; 
“learn to use wit, or, more properly, repartee, 
as I hope Ned will use his sword, ‘Never draw- 
ing it without cause, never sheathing it without 
honor.’ ” 

“There, brother,” said James, “ let your silence 
now show us that you regard mother’s advice.” 

“ Not only her advice, but every word she 
utters,” replied Ned, sitting down on the arm of 
the sofa, where his mother was reclining, and 
kissing her beautiful forehead. “Never fear, 
dear mother, no child of yours will ever use 
either tongue or arm in any but an honorable 
cause.” 

“I know you are all ‘sans peur,’ my chil- 


292 


WHITSUNTIDE 


dren,” said their father, speaking for the first 
time, “and as yet ‘sans reproche,’ but life is 
before you ; you little know what temptations 
the world may offer.” 

“But I am sure they know how those temp- 
tations may be overcome,” added Aunt Effie. 

She stood in the doorway, holding Harry by 
the hand ; but as they turned to leave the room, 
Hed left the sofa, and catching hold of Harry, 
exclaimed, “So, my little cousin, you were go- 
ing off without saying ‘ good-by’ to poor Hed ! 
A kind way to part for two years !” 

“ I tried to speak wEen you were tallnng 
with Jeanie,” he replied. “When you spoke of 
your sword, I wanted to ask if you ever mean 
to kill any one with it?” 

“It would take too long a time to answer 
that question to-night, my boy,” said liis uncle ; 
“I must send the travellers off to bed — ^it is 
ten o’clock.” 

“ And Harry,” added Hed, “ if ever my coun- 
try commands me to draw my sword, it will be 
my duty to obey ; when I enter the United 
States army, I shall be a part of my country; 
therefore, her enemies will be my enemies.” 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


293 


“But our Saviour tells us we must love our 
enemies,” persisted Harry. 

Hed looked thoughtful for a moment, then 
replied : “ Harry, suppose a rude, wicked man 
should come up to your mother and strike her 
face, while you were standing by.” 

“ Fd knock him down,” flashed out the young 
boy. 

“ Suppose you couldn’t do it alone by your- 
self, and you saw me?” 

“ I’d call you to help me pound him, and I’d 
call Jem and any body else if we couldn’t do it.” 

“Yery well, Harry, when I see other nations 
striking against my mother country ; when I see 
that poor mother suffering from the blow, I can- 
not help starting up and offering this young 
right arm to defend her from oppression. When 
I flght, it will never be for my own aggrandize- 
ment, but for the ‘ green graves of my sires— 
God, and my native land. ’ ” • 

“ Had I ought to be a soldier ?” asked Harry. 

His mother turned pale, for she knew Hed’s 
enthusiasm in regard to our army, and she 
trembled lest he should say something to favor 
her child’s question. She need not have feared, 
25 * 


294 


WHITSUNTIDE 


for he replied at once — “ No, Harry, you have 
your' mother to provide for. If you had a 
brother — ” he was going to add “ father,” but 
the plain white folds of Aunt Effie^s cap, and 
her deep black dress arrested him — if you 
had a brother you might act differently. Now, 

‘ good-by’ once more, I see Aunt Effie is tired 
of waiting — be a good boy while I’m gone, and 
make your mother write to me once a week.” 

“ I’ll remind her of it- every week,” replied 
the little fellow, smiling ; “ good-by, ^dear Ned.” 

When Mrs. Howard and Harry had gone, the 
three children gathered around the sofa where 
their parents were sitting. They thought over 
and talked of the past — the merry days when 
they were little children ; the many blessings 
which God had given and which He still gave 
to them ; the present — ^how sad it was to part — 
but how glorious the future seemed ! Ned, 
t^ho was sitting on the cushion at his mother’s 
feet, suddenly started up. “ Oh, Jem !” he ex- 
claimed, “ we have forgotten Euphie !” 

James sprang up also — “ I beg' your pardon, 
mother, for being in such haste — but we pro- 
mised — that is — please excuse us,” then turning 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


295 


to i^Ted, “ it is after eleven o’clock, I’m afraid 
it is too late.” 

“No, no,” replied his brotlier, at any rate 
“we’ll go and see.” 

They bid their parents and Jeanie, good-night ; 
their sister promised to be down and take break- 
fast with them, but Ned advised her not to 
make rash promises. 

“Judging from your mysterious conversation 
I should think that you had made one and for- 
gotten it also,” she replied. 

“ It was not a ‘ rash promise,’ ” said James ; 
“ but I’m not at liberty to tell you what it is — 
good-night — come, Ned.” 

In a few moments they reached the nursery. 
“ Let me go first,” said Ned, as he brushed by 
his brother and pushed open the half-closed 
door. They looked towards the bed where 
Biddy, the nurse, slept ; she was not there, so, 
shutting the door, they stepped softly towards 
their little sister’s bed. They were so still that 
Eifie did not hear them, although she was watch- 
ing for them, but she heard Ned whisper — 
“Don’t wake her, Jem, I’m sure she’s asleep.” 

“ No, Jamie, I’m awake now and waiting for 


296 


WHITSUNTIDE 


you,” she murmured, lifting her lovely face from 
the pillow, and leaning her head on one hand 
she reached the other towards her brothers. 

“Waiting for us, darling Euphie,” replied 
James. “Oh, I’m very sorry we’ve stayed so 
long!” He moved the little bed out from the 
wall, so that Hed and himself might sit one 
on each side of her. 

“Oh, I’ve been asleep,” she said. “I tried 
to keep awake, thinking you would soon come, 
and I looked up at the pretty moon and all 
the stars dancing round it ; but by and by they 
seemed to stand still, and then, Jamie, they 
grew so very bright that I couldn’t look at 
them any more. I don’t know when I shut 
my eyes, only the stars all went away for a 
moment, and then I saw them again ; but not 
so small — they were large, and, oh, so silvery! 
Well, while I was wondering what made them 
so bright, I heard the softest music in the 
world ; at first, it was like papa’s fiute far away 
on the lake; then there came a soft rolling 
sound which made me think of the organ at 
Trinity Church in Hew York, for I trembled 
all over. I was so frightened, because I was 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


297 


alone, I wanted to call yon, and Jeanie, and 
Harry; but, just then, the music grew very low, 
and, while I listened to hear it die away, 
voices — oh, Jamie, such voices! — sang, ‘Holy, 
Holy, Holy, Lord God Almighty, which was, and 
is, and is to come.’ I wasn’t afraid any more, 
for I knew nothing would hurt me then, so I 
called to the voices and said, ‘Come near to 
Effie, let her sing with you.’ 

“Then, Jamie, the stars grew golden, and 
the blue sky turned silver, and a bright cloud 
came floating down to me. Although the win- 
dow was shut, it seemed open, for the cloud 
floated in and rested over my head.” 

She ceased for an instant, then clasping her 
brothers’ hands more tightly, continued, “What 
I thought was a cloud, was only like a veil, 
Jamie, for it fell slowly down on my bed; but 
when I put out my hand to reach it, the music 
came again. I looked up — oh, dear Hed — there 
was a face there so like yours ; I saw it first, 
for it was nearest to me, and a voice whispered 

but I’ll not tell you what it said quite yet. 

Then I looked, and the other face was yours, 
Jamie. You, too, whispered, but I could not 


298 


WHITSUNTIDE 


hear what you said, for I caught sight of papa’s 
and mamma’s face. They were highest of all, 
looking down upon me. They didn’t speak, 
neither did Jeanie, Aunt Effie, or Harry ; you 
were all wrapped in the beautiful cloud. 

“Then I knelt down on the bed, and put 
out my hands and tried to creep next to you, 
hut the veil drew up and covered your faces, 
and the music grew softer and softer, until you 
floated away, and I was left all alone. I 
couldn’t help crying then, for I wanted to be 
with you, and I cried so hard that Biddy came 
and woke me up. I wouldn’t tell her what 
made me cry, Jamie, but I asked if you and 
Hed had been here. I was very glad when 
she said ‘ no ;’ so I told her to stay down stairs 
until 1 called, for you and Hed were coming 
to see me before you went to bed, and I wanted 
to be all alone.” 

“ It was a beautiful dream, Effie — -now won’t 
you tell me wffiat I said?” 

“ Yes, Hed ; but, first, I will tell you why I 
wanted to speak with you to-night. You don’t 
mind Jamie’s listening, do you?” 

“ Ho, indeed,” replied her brother. “ Didn’t 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


299 


you liear me tell him so this evening, after you 
whispered to us to come up here 

“No, for I ran right out of the room; I had 
to go and get these flowers.” 

Her brothers had not noticed the little bouquet 
which was lying over her pillow, until she sat up 
' and took it in her hands. “Dear Ned” — her 
voice trembled, but she continued — “ this time 
you are going away from home for two years. 
Oh, Ned ! if you should die before Effie sees 
you, it would almost make poor Effie die too.” 

The little girl adopted Tim’s manner of speak- 
ing in the third person whenever she felt very 
sad, so her brother knew that there were tears 
in her eyes, although he could not see them. 
“ I am only a little girl,” she continued, “ and 
I don’t know any thing about soldiers.; but, Ned, 
if you find the soldiers naughty, I don’t want 
you to be like them. I want you to promise 
me that you will read your Bible, and study 
your Prayer-Book, just as if you were at home. 
Don’t let anybody laugh at you for going to 
church, and kneeling down to say your prayers.” 

“Why, darling, who put such an idea into 
your little head?” 


300 


WHITSUNTIDE 


Oh, I heard Biddy and Katie talking the other 
night ; they thought I was asleep. Katie said 
‘ young gentlemen soldiers’ were ‘ awful bad peo- 
ple,’ and Biddy said she was afraid you would 
grow bad too. I wouldn’t listen to them any 
more, for I knew you would never be bad, so I 
went right to sleep. To-night, when papa read 
of those who would go to heaven, there was one 
verse that I liked more than all the rest, because 
it was the only one which said, ‘ They shall see 
God?’ ” 

“ ‘ Blessed are the pure in heart : for they shall 
see God.’” 

“Yes, Ked, that is the verse. I don’t quite 
understand the meaning of it; but it made me 
remember what Biddy said, so I thought I would 
ask you to promise me that you would think of 
that verse very often when you’re away from 
home, and try to be what it says ; then, if you 
should die, I should be sure that you had 
thought of the verse, for I know you will keep 
a promise.” 

The little girl could not understand or sympa- 
thize in the feelings which her simple words 
awakened in her brother’s heart, and when he 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


301 


laid his face on her pillow, and tried to stifle the 
hurst of tears — ah, my children, they were not 
unmanly teal’s — she bent down over him, sobbing 
as if her poor little heart would break. “ Don’t 
cry, Ned, I’ll not ask you to promise, if it makes 
you cry !” 

“ No, no, Euphie, not that ; but, oh, you don’t 
know how hard it will be to keep evil thoughts 
from my heart !” 

‘‘I didn’t ask you to keep them away from 
your heart,” murmured Effie — “ I only said, to 
try. Oh, Ned, look up here — please don’t cry 
any more.” 

&e raised his head; only traces of tears re- 
mained. He laid his hand in hers — “ Yes, 
Effie — promise you I will try.” 

“ Dear, dear Ned,” she whispered, as she 
knelt on her little bed, and put her arms 
about his neck. Then she took up the flowers 
— “ Here, Ned, take these flowers, keep some 
of them pressed in your Bible, some in your 
Prayer-Book, and they will remind you of our 
talk to-night. One of these days, when I grow 
up, perhaps I will ask you for them.” 

“ I shall have them to show to you, my 
26 


802 


WHITSUNTIDE 


Eiipbie; but I shall never part with them — no, 
not even if you should ask me for them your- 
self.” 

“ Oh, now I will tell you what the face in 
the cloud said !” she exclaimed. “ I know it 
was your face, although it was brighter, and 
had a more calm look in the eyes than you 
have ; but when you whispered, you held up a 
bunch of flowers like these, only they looked 
more beautiful in my dream ; and then you 
said, ‘ Dear little sister, you have helped me 
to come to the beautiful Home ; for I thought 
of the night when you gave me these dowel’s, 
and I tried to be like those whom our Saviour 
called ‘ blessed.’ It was only a dream, but 1 
wish it had been reair 

She laid her head down on the pillow, and 
closed her eyes — “ Good night, good night,” 
she murmured ; perhaps I’ll see Jamie’s face 
in another dream.” 

Her brothers did not reply, but moved the 
bed back to the wall, and folded the covering 
smoothly over her. They bent down and kissed 
the rosy mouth. 

“I’ll say my little prayers for both of you 


AT CEDAR GROVE. 


308 


every night and morning; but more, for poor 
ISTed.” 

These are the last words which, for two years, 
Edward Kuthven has heard from Effie’s lips — 
and two more years must pass away before he will 
see his little sister. James, alone, knows the 
meaning of those withered flowers which are 
fastened in Ned’s Bible and Prayer-Book, and 
on which he looks morning and evening — but to 
James they do not call up the same thoughts, 
so precious to his brother. 


I 


f 


4 


f 



NOTES. 


Page 19. 

(1) In London, these parochial processions are still kept up 
on Holy Thursday.” — BranPs Popular Antiquities^ London, 
1841, vol. i. p. 119. 

Page 48. 

(2) “ In the Arsenal at Venice, in the model room, there is a 
model of the Bucentaur, made from drawings and recollections 
after the original had been destroyed. • It is a gorgeous toy, 
but very unseaworthy. A bit of the mast of the original 
structure is still preserved. 

“ There have only been three Bucentaurs. The first, built 
in 1520, lasted till 1600. The second, more magnificent, con- 
tinued till 1725 ; and the third was destroyed in 1797. Of 
this last, the gilding, alone, cost more than $40,000.” — Hilr 
lard's Six Months in Italy, voL i. pp. 65, 66. 

Page 69. 

(3) “ It is a most striking fact, too, that every single sen- 
tence in this prayer (the Lord’s Prayer) is taken from the 
Jewish Liturgies, with which the disciples were already 
familiar.” — Bishop Kip's Double Witness of the Church, p. 98. 


306 


NOTES. 


“Abundant proof of this can be found in Lightfoot, (on 
Matt. ix. 9-13,) and the works of several other learned 
men.” — Ihid^ note ii. p. 98. 

Horne, in his Introduction to Scripture, gives the following 
quotation of the whole form which the Rev. Mr. Gregory col- 
lected and translated from the Jewish Euchologies : — 

“Our Father, which art in heaven, be gracious unto us ! 0 
Lord our God, hallowed be Thy name, and let the remem- 
brance of Thee be glorified in heaven above, and upon earth 
here below. Let Thy kingdom reign over us, now and for 
ever. The holy men of old said, remit and forgive unto all 
men whatsoever they have done against me. And lead us not 
into temptation, but deliver us from the evil thing. For Thine 
is the kingdom, and Thou shalt reign in glory for ever, and for 
ever movQ." ^Horne's Introduction to Scriptures^ vol. iil 
p. 296. 

Page 71. 

(4) “ On the head of the scape-goat a piece of scarlet cloth 
was tied, and there is a tradition among the Jews that if God 
accepted the sacrifice, the cloth turned white while the goat 
was being led off to the wilderness ; but if it did not become 
white, then their sacrifice was not accepted, and they spent the 
year in mourning.” — Adam GlarMs Commentary^ Lev. xvi. 21. 

Page 91. 

(5) “ The various Ales or merry-makings observed by our 
ancestors in the 16th century, may be enumerated under the 
heads of Leet Ale, Lamb Ale, Bride Ale, Clerk Ale, Church 
Ale, and Whitsun Ale. The Agapae were held at weddings 
and funerals : so were the Ales of the 16th century.” 
ShaJcspeare^ vol. i. p. 176 ; Calendar of the Anglican Churchy 

p. 172. 

The old usage of collecting for the Whitsun Ale has fallen 


NOTES. 


3or 

into disuse ; but a custom is still kept up in England for young 
people to go in parties to the country to partake of milk and 
cream. — Notes and Queries^ voL xii. p. 297. 

In Notes and Queries, vol. vi. p. 45, may be found the 
following statement: “The jugs used in the now obsolete 
‘ Ales’ were of white earthenware, with a* blue inscription, 
inscribed 

WHIT, 

1649.” 

At page 89 of the same volume, another writer says these 
jugs were too small for ale — they were used for wine. There 
are some in the Norwich Museum, one inscribed “Whit, 1648.” 
Another, “Claret, 1648;” and another smaller one, “Sack, 
1650.” The larger bottles will hold about half a pint — the 
smaller ones, quarter of a pint. 

Page 94. 

(6) “ Dr. Johnson, in his edition of Gerade’s Herbal, speak- 
ing of the birch tree, says : “It serveth well for decking places 
of pleasure, and for beautifying the streets in the Crosse or 
Gang Week, and such like.” — Brand's Popular Antiquities^ 
London, 1841, vol. i. p. 121. 

Page 97. 

(7) “ In Saterland, shooting at a bird is practised. He who 
shoots down the last is declared king, and is given a decorated 
hat, which he wears at the dance in the evening, and preserves 
till the next year. Foot-races and horse-races are also common 
at Whitsuntide.” — Thorpe's Mythology and Popular Tradi- 
tions of Scandinaria, North Germany^ and the Netherlands^ 
vol. iii. p. 139. 


308 


NOTES. 


Page 134. 

(8) “ Our Anglo-Saxon forefathers had no word hke Whit- 
sonday or Whitsontide, but called the Sunday and its octave 
Pentecostes. It is thought that among them the ceremony of 
wearing the white robe for a week after baptism had grown 
obsolete before the coming of the Normans. Whitsontide is 
an English word, and did not get into use earlier than the 12th 
or 13th centuries. It is certain that its introduction was long 
after the custom of neophytes wearing the white robe for eight 
days after their baptism had ceased .” — Pfotes and Queries^ 
vol. ii. p. 153. 

“ Wit-Sonday,” such is the spelling in the Paston Letters. — 
Letter XV. 

Hearne, in the glossary to his edition of Robert of Glouces- 
ter, who lived about a. d. 1270, refers to a rare book printed 
by Wynken de Worde, in which he spells it Wyttesonetyd. 

“In die Pentecostes.” 

“ Good men and wymmen this day is called Wytsonday 
bycause the Holy Ghost brought wytte and wysdom to 
Christis disciples, and so by her prechyng after into all Cris- 
tendom. Thenne maye ye understande that many hath wytte, 
but not wysdom. For there ben many that hath wytte to 
preche well, but there ben few that have wysdom to live well. 
There be many wyse prechers and techers, but her lyvyng in 
no maner thyng after her prechynge. Also there be many 
that labour to have wytte and counying, but there ben few 
travaylleth to come to good lyvynge.” — Wynhyn de Worde^ 
1493, Liber Festivalis — written by John Mirk, canon regular 
of Lilleshull. 

“Mr. Mackenzie Walcott, in enumerating the Feasts on 
which churches were decked with flowers, called Pentecost 
Whiteson Day, and considers it a corruption of German 


NOTES. 


309 


‘pingsten,’ fiftieth. It seems a two-fold mistake, the word 
should be ‘ Pfingsten,’ which has no apparent connection with 
the German word for fiftieth, which is ‘ funfzigste.’ ” — Notes 
and Queries^ vol. ii. p. 77. 

Among the Dutch settlers in New York, then New Amster- 
dam, the festival of Whitsuntide was called Pinxter. 

“ The origin of Whit-Sunday has been derived from the 
French word huit^ eight, as it is the eighth Sunday after 
Easter. Hamon L’Estrange, as if to make this opinion more 
probable, observes that the octave of any feast is, in the 
Latin, called utas^ which he derives from the French word 
huietas. (Old French.)” — Wheatley on Common Prayer^ 
p. 233. 

In France, this day is called “ Le jour de la Pentec6te.” In 
Italy, “ II giorna della Pentecoste.” In Spain, “ Die de Pente- 
costes. The Saxon name, “ Pentecostenes maessendaeg.” Ger- 
man, “ Pfingstoun tag.” Dutch, “ Der pingster dag.” 

Page 135. 

(9) “ In the middle ages, great wax candles were blessed on 
Whit-Sunday, to represent the light of faith shining forth on 
the world.” — Calendar of the Anglican Church, p. 172. 

Page 155. 

(10) “ Holy Cross Day. The Exaltation of the Cross was an 
ancient feast, held on the fourteenth of September, in memory 
of the restoration of the true Cross to Mount Calvary by 
Heraclitus, a. d. 642. Fourteen years before it had been 
carried off by Cosroes, King of Persia, when he took Jerusalem 
from the Emperor Phocas.” — Buclc's Theo. Diet. 

Page 156. 

(11) “Dr. Mareschal, in his observations upon the Saxon 


310 


NOTES. 


Gospels, takes the title of ‘ Ember’ from a Saxon word mean- 
ing circuit or course ; so these fasts coming every 3 ^ear in 
certain courses, may properly be said to be Ember days^ i. e., 
fasts in course'’^ — Wheatley on Common Prayer^ p. 204. 

Page 184. 

(12) “ The supposed derivation of the Morris dance is, that 
it came from the Moors ; for in olden times the dancers usually 
blackened their faces as if to pass for Moors. It may be a 
corruption of the ancient Pyrrhic dance, as was the earliest 
Morisco dance in France. It has been supposed that the 
Morris dance was first brought into England in the time of 
Edward III., when John of Gaunt returned from Spain; but 
few traces of it have been found earlier than the time of 
Henry VII., so it is more probable the English had it from 
their Gallic neighbors, or even the Flemings. This dance 
makes a considerable figure in the parochial festivals of the 
time of Henry VHI. 

“The May games of Robin Hood, accompanied with the 
Morris, were at first a distinct ceremony from the simple 
Morris, celebrated about Easter, and before the May games ; 
but it is probable that when archery declined, the May games 
of Robin Hood were discontinued, and the Morris dance was 
transformed to the celebration of Whitsuntide, either as con- 
nected with the Whitsun Ales, or as a separate amusement.” — 
FosbroTce's Encyclopedia of Antiquities^ vol. ii. p. 654 ; Poucds 
Illustrations of Shalcespeare^ p. 584. 

Page 200. 

(13) “ The Severed Hand.” This story is slightly altered 
from the North German and Norwegian legends, found in 
Thorpe’s Mythology and Popular Traditions of Scandinavia, 
North Germany, and the Netherlands, vol. ii. p. 32; voL 
iil p. 26. 


NOTES. 


311 


Page 212. 

(14) “ Tizona. This sword is supposed to have been won by 
the Cid from king Bucar, at the time the king of Morocco 
besieged Valencia .” — Lochharfs Spanish Ballads^ p. 251. 

Page 223. 

(15) “In VTales, on Thursday after Trinity Sunday, which 
they call ‘ Dudd son Duw,’ or ‘ Dydd gwyl Duw,’ on the eve 
before, they strew a sort of fern before their doors, called ‘ Red 
yn Mair.’ This is at Caerwis.” — Brand) s Popular Antigui- 

London, 1841, vol. i. p. 162. 

Page 280. 

(16) “When St. Patrick landed near Wicklow, in a. d. 433, 
on his mission to the Irish, he found much difficulty in ex- 
plaining the mystery of the Trinity ; but they did not under- 
stand him till, plucking a clover (or shamrock) from the 
ground, he asked — ‘ Is it not as possible for the Father, Son, 
and Holy Ghost, as for these leaves to grow upon a single stalk ?’ 
The Irish were immediately convinced. The shamrock is the 
national cognizance of Ireland. The Druids used it to heal 
diseases .” — Ilonds Erery Bay Boolc^ voL i. p. 371. 

Page 291. 

(17) Upon the blade of the broad-sword given to Prince 
Charles Edward by the City of Glasgow, after the battle of 
Falkirk, are these inscriptions ; “ Ne me tirez pas sans raison,” 
on one side; and on the other, “Ne me remettez point sans 
honour.” 

In the list of wood engravings to Sir Walter Scott’s novel 
of Redgauntlet, vol. IX. London, Abbotsford edition, it is said 
to be “ in the possession of Macdonald of Clanranald.” 


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OTHER BOOKS 


By the author of ^^Whitsuntide at Cedar Grove" 


EASTER HOLIDAYS AT CEDAR GROVE. 

16mo., muslin, 38 cents. 

CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS AT CEDAR GROVE. A Second 
Edition will be issued early in the Fall, in a neat style, for 
Sunday School distribution, as well as in the more elegant 
form of the Series. 

PuUished ly DANIEL DANA, Jr., 

381 Broadway., New YorTc. 


Published by Daniel Dana^ Jr. 


EASTER HOLIDAYS AT CEDAR GROVE. By Mrs. 

William Wood Seymour. 

16?«o., muslin, 38 cents. 

“ A bright, nimble, happy tale is this that Mrs. Sej^our has writ- 
ten for our juvenile brethren. The little book is full of Easter sun- 
shine and delight, and answers well to its title as a body of religious 
thought arrayed in the light drapery of gentle household mirth and 
playfulness. ***** The writer has evidently been a child 
herself, and, 0 blessed treasure ! she has not forgotten it. She dis- 
covers a very quick and happy knack at touching children in the right 
spot, so as to instruct them without losing their attention or chilling 
their interest, and, which is rare, without making them think how 
much they have learned. The materials and treatment of the story 
are such that little folks may really find themselves in it, and grow 
better in the reading, without ceasing to be little folks. Bigger folks, 
too, will find a good deal in it to make them remember and revere 
the dreams of their youth.” 

The American Church Monthly. 

“ Easter JTolMays at Cedar Grove is a little story, from the pen of 
one who now makes her first appearance in the field of juvenile litera- 
ture, and we welcome her heartily, as certain to be a universal favor- 
ite. * * * * A more perfect daguerreotype of a family of bright, 
lively, and highly individualized children, with not a little of natural 
infirmity, but no vice or downright wickedness, we have never seen. 
They are running over with health, and love of ‘fun,’ and fond of a 
good game at romi)s, though with no real unkindness. The thread 
of the story is perfectly simple — only spending a week of Easter holi- 
days at home — but it is a thread woven of silver and gold, and sparkles 
brightly all the way through. The solemn services of the Church" give 
the deep note on which the lighter and more tripping melodies are 
modulated ; and a large number of the old superstitions and Easter- 
tide usages — from the dancing sun to Pasch eggs, — are introduced in 
an easy and natural manner, and explained so as to be pleasantly and 
perfectly intelligible to children. There are many scraps of poetry 
interspersed here and there, — all chosen with exquisite taste. The 
book ends with the departure for school again from the old stone house 
at Copake, previous to which, on Sunday evening, the father of the 
family gravely, 3"et affectionately, tells all his little ones their faults, 
and sets them kindly on their guard, that b.v watching and prayer they 
may improve during the year. It is a charming little book ; and here- 
after, whenever a new story appears with the name of Mrs. William 
Wood Sej'mour on the title page, eveiy rea<ler of Easter Holidays 
will send for it at once.” 

The Church Journal. 


II 


Just PuhlisJied by Daniel Dana^ Jr. 


CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS AT CEDAR GROVE. By Mrs. 

William Wood Seymour, 16rno., muslin, 63 cents. 

Muslin, bevelled boards, gilt edges, 88 cents. 

Mrs. ‘William Wood Seymour, who made her debut as an author- 
ess in so sprightly a fashion a few months ago, in ‘ Easter Holidays 
at Cedar Grove,' now favors us with a charming companion-piece in 
* Christmas Holidays at Cedar Grove' This is even better than its 
predecessor. The field is richer, and it has been better worked besides. 
From St. Thomas’s day to Twelfth Night, every old custom, legend, and 
superstition is hunted up and brought in, after a most pleasing fashion. 
The characters are the same bright, keen, healthy, hearty, romping 
children whose acquaintance we made in Easter-tide — and each keeps 
up well his own individuality of character. Good, sound Church 
teaching is the basis of the book — the solid foundation. But besides 
this, there are numberless threads gathered from all lands, times, and 
climes, with really a very remarkable amount of curious antiquarian 
research, all twisted into the living warp and woof of the holiday joys 
of happy children, so as to give a brilliant thickness and rich solidity 
to the fabric, yet never for a moment clogging or delaying the rapid 
motion of the shining shuttle. We are very glad to see this book, for 
it will have a decided tendency to increase the treasures of the Church- 
man’s home. The cold shadow of Puritanism still rests upon too many 
hearths in this country, and even a Churchman’s Christmas is apt to 
be as dull as a Congregationalist’s Thanksgiving Day. This poverty 
of the home in the elements of innocent enjoyment, is one of the rea- 
sons why the family bond snaps sooner in this country than in any 
European nation. Fathers give their sons their time, as it is called, 
long before they are out of their teens ; and with faces keen for busi- 
ness, but hard in relation to all the tender and kindlier feelings of the 
heart, they go forth to battle with the world, with a solitariness of 
spirit that is irremediable. In order to train the head, it is not neces- 
sary to starve the heart ; and for educating the heart, there is nothing 
BO powerful as the joyous kindliness of home; and there is nothing 
that so truly, deeply, and sweetly sanctifies the joys of home as the 
tying them up in love-knots around the great Festivals of the Church. 
Thus, somewhat, at least, of the tone and spirit of Christianity is made 
to pervade the whole. Christianity of the sour sort is, like sour wine, 
spoiled before it be truly made. Mrs. Seymour’s books will be favor- 
ites in all Church families that are truly genial homes." 

The Church Journal. 

ii 


Published by Daniel Dana^ Jr. 


BESSIE MELVILLE ; or, Prayer-Book Instructions car- 
ried OUT INTO Life ; A Sequel to “ The Little Episcopa- 
lian:^ By M. A. C. 

16wio., with two engravings, muslin embossed, gilt, 75 cts. 

“ The conception and realization of the full and conscientious carry- 
ing out of the Church’s system of training is of the highest order, and 
cannot be read by young or old without profit. * * * * * The 

picture of school-girl life, and the influence of girls upon each other 
and in the family circle, is the best part of this excellent book, and will 
make it a general favorite. It will help, too, to increase the mission- 
ary spirit amongst the young, especially as regards our western fron- 
tier, and will forward the work of the Gospel among the red men. It 
has been very handsomely gotten up, and makes a nice, neat book for 
the gift season.” Church Journal. 

“ It is a sweet little story.” The Monitor. 

“ A well-written Church story, inculcating loyalty to the Prayer- 
Book. With the plot a pretty Indian episode is interwoven.” 

The Calendar. 

“This little work will "be found quite as interesting as its predeces- 
sor.” Christian Witness. 

“ It is a charming and touching volume.” The Chv/rchman. 

“ The work is beautifully written, and contains not a few touching 
incidents.” Detroit Tribv/ne. 

iv 


aStnntiful 33nnk3 for 

FOR SALE BY 

DANIEL DANA, JR., 

381 Broadway, New York. 

WORDSWORTH’S POEMS. Illustrated JoH^i Gilbert, 
Wolfe, and Birket Foster. 

Square 8vo., muslin, bevelled boards, gilt, $6.00. 

Turkey morocco, $8.00. 

THE POETS OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Se- 
lected and Edited by the Rev. Robert Avis Willmott. 
Illustrated with one hundred Engravings, drawn by 
eminent Artists, and engraved by the brothers Dalziel. 

Muslhi, bevelled boards, gilt, $4.00. 

Turkey morocco, $6.00. 

THE HOME AFFECTIONS PORTRAYED BY THE 
POETS. Selected and Edited by Charles Mackay. 
Illustrated with one hundred Engravings by eminent 
Artists. Muslin, bevelled boards, gilt, $6.00. 

Turkey morocco, $8.00. 

GOLDSMITH’S POETICAL WORKS. Edited by the 
Rev. R. A. Willmott. Illustrated by Birket Foster, 
and splendidly printed in colors, by Evans. 

Muslin, bevelled boards, gilt, $5.00. 

Turkey morocco, $7.50. 

FAVORITE ENGLISH POEMS OF THE LAST TWO 
CENTURIES. Unabridged. Illustrated with upwards 
of two hundred Engravings on wood, from Drawings by 
the most eminent Artists. 

Muslin, bevelled boards, splendidly gilt, $6.00. 

V 


For Sale ly Daniel Dana^ Jr. 


CHRISTMAS WITH THE POETS. A Collection of Songs, 
Carols, and Descriptive Verses, relating to the Festival 
of Christmas, from the Anglo-Norman period to the 
Present Time. With fifty-three tinted Illustrations, 
by Birket Foster. 

Muslin, bevelled boards, splendidly gilt, $5.50. 

THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS CAROLS. Illuminated 
from Ancient MSS. in the British Museum. $3.50. 

*** A book of rare beauty— but few copies in hand. 

THE BOOK OF JOB. Illustrated with fifty Engravings, 
from Drawings by John Gilbert. $4.50. 

LAYS OF THE HOLY LAND. With upwards of sixty 
Illustrations by the best Artists. Gilt cloth, $5.00. 

Turkey morocco, $7.00. 

THE PROVERBS OF SOLOMON. Illustrated by twenty 
Historical Parallels, drawn by John Gilbert. 

Cloth, elegant, $3.50. 

Turkey, $5.00. 

THE LIFE OF LUTHER. In forty-eight Historical En- 
gravings, by Gustav Kienig, with Explanations by 
Archdeacon Hare, etc. Muslin, $9.00. 

LAYS OF A LIFETIME. The Record of One Departed, 
With finely-engraved Portrait and Vignette Title. 

Muslin, bevelled boards, gilt, $1.50. 

Turkey morocco, $4.00. 

THE POETICAL WORKS OF GEORGE HERBERT. 
Printed on tinted paper, and beautifully illustrated. 

Muslin, bevelled boards, $5.00. 

THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. Printed on 
tinted paper, and beautifully illustrated. 

Muslin, elegantly gilt, $6.00. 

THE LORD OF THE ISLES. In same style as the pre- 
ceding. ‘ $6.00. 

THE HOUSEHOLD BOOK OF POETRY. Collected and 
Edited by Charles A. Dana. Royal 8vo., $3.50. 
vi 


For Sale by Daniel Dana^ Jr. 


EPISODES OF INSECT LIFE. English Edition. 3 vols. 
With beautiful Illustrations. $6.00. 

THE CHRISTIAN YEAR. Keble. 12mo., Turkey, $3.50. 
The Same. 327 wo., Turkey, $1.62. 

HOOK’S MEDITATIONS. 4 vols. 12mo., Turkey, $9.46. 

COMPANION FOR THE CHRISTIAN IN SEASONS OF 
AFFLICTION, with Prayers for the Sick Room. 

12/no., calf, $2.26. 

WALTON’S LIVES. Beautifully Illustrated Edition. $2.60 


GOLDSMITH’S VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. Do. $2.00. 

HALF-HOURS WITH THE BEST AUTHORS. 2 vols. 

8 VO., gilt edges, $2.75. 


KARR’S TOUR ROUND MY GARDEN. Edited by 
the Rev. J. G. Wood. With one hundred and seven- 
teen Illustrations. 

Muslin, plain, $1.00. 

*** This is one of the most charming of books. 

WHITE’S NATURAL HISTORY OF SELBORNE, beau- 
tiful illustrated edition. 12/no., $1.60. 

BUNYAN’S PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. With Stothard’s 
beautiful Illustrations. Muslin, $3.00. 


Other Standard Poets and Prose Writers, in fine editions 
and bindings. 




BIBLES, PRAYER BOOKS, AND CHURCH SER- 
VICES (Prayer and Lessons) of the best editions and 
in the most elegant bindings, suitable for 

Wedding and Holiday Presents; 

Also for Pew and Family Use, and for cheap 
distribution. 


viii 


For Sale l)y Daniel Dana^ Jr. 


FOR CHILDREN. 

THE CHILDREN’S BREAD, IN CRUMBS FROM THE 
MASTER’S TABLE. Muslin, plain, 15 cents. 

Muslin, gilt, $1.00. 
“ The most exquisitely beautiful book for a Christl.an child which 

we have ever seen.” — Giurch Beview. 

THE CHILDREN’S BIBLE PICTURE-BOOK. With 
e^ghtg fine Engravings. $1.38. 

The Same. With the Engravings Colored. $2.50. 

THE CHILDREN’S PICTURE-BOOK OF ENGLISH 
HISTORY. With fifty fine Engravings. $1.50. 

ILLUSTRATED DITTIES OF THE OLDEN TBIE, with 
Engravings and Borders upon every page, hi the highest 
style of art. Muslin, gilt edges, $2.25. 

CHILD’S PLAY. With seventeen beautiful Illustrations, 
printed in colors. Muslin, gilt, $1.50. 

THE JEWELS OF THE LORD, AND THE LORD OF 
THE JEWEIjS. With Twelve fine Engravings. 

Muslin, 40 cents. 

*** This is a Bible Story Book, with a short Poem upon each subject. 

As a book for children, larger and smaller, its merits are of the very 

highest order. 

KITTO’S PICTORIAL LIFE OF OUR SAVIOUR, with 
numerous Illustrations. $1.25. 

THE STORY OF JOSEPH AND HIS BRETHREN, with 
eleven Illustrations, printed in colors. Muslin, 40 cts. 

THE COUNTRY YEAR BOOK. By Thomas Miller. 
With one hundred and forty Illustrations. $1.50. 

MRS. LOUDEN’S YOUNG NATURALIST’S JOURNEY. 
With numerous Illustrations. 65 cents. 

THE SEASONS OF THE Y^EAR. Meditations upon the 
Se.asons. With six beautif ul Colored Illustrations. 

65 cents. 

THE RIVER JORDAN — Pictorial and Descriptive, with 
six beautiful Colored Ilhistrations. 65 cents. 


IX 


For Sale l>y Daniel Dana^ Jr. 


THE MINE; or, Darkness and Light. By A. L. 0. E,, 
authoress of “ The Giant Killer,” eta 50 cents, 

OLD FRIENDS WITH NEW FACES. By A. L. 0. E. 

40 cents. 

MARTIN RATTLER. A Boy’s Adventures in the For- 
ests OF Brazil. By R. M. Ballantyne. With Illus- 
trations. 15 cents. 

STORIEvS OF AN OLD MAID, Related to her Nephews 
AND Nieces. By Madame Emile de Girardin. With 
Sixteen Illustrations. $1.00. 

OLD WONDER- EYES, and other Stories for Children. 
By Grace Greenwood. With Illustrations. 

16mo., muslin, 60 cents. 

AMY CARLETON ; or. First Days at School. 60 cents. 

MEMOIRS OF A DOLL, Adapted from the French. By 

Mrs. Besset. 60 cents. 

THE STORY OF AN APPLE. By Lady Campbell. 

60 cents. 

THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. By Thomas Bulfinch. With 
Illustrations. $1.00. 

The Same.' With Illustrations in Oil Colors. $1.25. 

THE LIFE OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. Written f<yr 
Children. By E. Cecil. With Engravings. 

16mo., 60 cents. 

SEED-TIME AND HARVEST. Tales Translated from the 
German. With Illustrations in Oil Colors. 1 5 cents. 

A WILL AND A WAY. Tales from the German. With 
Illustrations in Colors. 15 cents. 

THE BRAVE BOY ; or. Filial Love. 

18/no., muslin, 25 cents. 

MAGDALENE AND RAPHAEL. 18/no., muslin, 26 cts. 

VISIT TO MY BIRTH-PLACE. \%mo., muslin, 25 cents. 

HELEN’S FAULT. 18/no., muslin, 26 cents. 

BEN HOWARD ; or, Truth and Honesty. 

18/wo., muslin, 25 cents. 


For Sale ly Daniel Dana^ Jr. 


TEE PLiVY-GROUND ; or, I^e Boys’ Book of Games. 
By George Forrest, M. A. 62 cents. 

THE NIGHTINGALE; or, A Kind Act is Never Lost. 
By Christoph Schmid. With Four fine Illustrations. 

Muslin, 31 cents. 

, Paper covers, 16 cents. 

I^IY MOTHER’S JEWEL. By Jane A. Eames. The 
Original Edition. \^mo., Muslin, 50 cents. 

Enamelled paper, 31 cents. 

THE DARK RIVER. An Allegory. By the Rev. Ed- 
ward A. Monro. With fine Engravings. 

, 16mo., muslin, 40 cents, 

THE NOBLE ARMY OF MARTYRS. By the Rev. 
Samuel Fox, M. A. 16mo., muslin, 40 cents, 

THE FOUR SISTERS; Patience, Humility, Hope, and 
Love. By the author of “ Harry and his Homes,” 
With Illustrations. 16?no., muslin, 76 cents. 

Muslin, gilt edges, $1.00. 

HARRY AND HIS HOMES ; or. The Conquest of Pride. 

\%mo.,7mislin, 50 cents. 

MINNA RAYMOND ; a Tale that might have been True. 
With Illustrations. 62 cents. 

And a very large variety of elegantly illustrated 
books for children, in fine muslin bindings, at 
prices varying from 25 cents to $1.00 and up- 
wards. 

xi 


< 


REWARD CARDS, IN PACKETS, 

Heautifully Illustrated and Printed in Gold and Colors^ 

For Sale by Daniel Dana, Jr., 

381 Broadway, New York. 


VIEWS IN JERUSALEM. Twelve Views Printed in Colors, 
with plan of Jerusalem, and Descriptive Letter-press. 

25 cents. 

ENVIRONS OF JERUSALEM. Twelve Views, in Colors, 
with Map and Descriptive Letter-press. 25 cents. 

EASTERN MANNERS AND CUSTOMS. Fourteen Views, 
in Colors. 25 cents. 

VIEWS OF MOUNT LEBANON AND SYRIA. Thirteen 
Views, in Colors. 25 cents. 

THE CITIES OF PALESTINE. Twelve Views, with Maps, 
dec., in Colors. 25 cents ^ 

VIEWS IN ASIA MINOR, AND THE INLANDS OF THE 

LEVANT, llie Seven Churches of Asia, dec.. Twelve 
Views, in Colors, dec. 25 cents. 

SCENES IN MANY LANDS. Printed in Chromo Litho- 
graphy. 25 cents. 

VIEWS OF THE ENGLISH LAKES ; Cumberland and 
Westmoreland. Twelve Views, Printed in Colors, with 
Map, dec. 25 cents. 

THE TROSACHS AND LOCH LOMOND. Fourteen Views. 

25 cents. 

ENVIRONS OF EDINBURGH. Twelve Vieics. 25 cents. 

THE LAKES OF KILLARNEY. Fourteen Views 25 cents 

MY jMOTHER; A Series of Ten Cards, most heautifully 
Prilled in Oil Colors, illustrating each verse of the cel- 
ebrated nursery song, “ My Mother.” 25 cents. 

xii 


For Sale ly Daniel Dana, Jr., 


Oil-colored Pictures in Packets. 

PICTURES AND SONGS FOR THE LITTLE ONES AT 
HOME. Twelve Cards. 25 vents. 

EMINENT MEN ; A Packet of Nine Cards, printed in 
Colors. 25 cents. 

THE ENGLISH POETS; A Packet of Nine Cards. 25 cents. 

THE MOUNTAINS OF SCRIPTURE. A Packet of 
Twelve Cards, with Descriptive Letter-press, etc. 

25 cents. 

THE PARABLES OF OUR LORD. Twelve Parables, 
double payed, with splendid Wood Engravings in 
Colors and Letter-press in gold. 25 cents. 

PICTURES AND SONGS OF HOME. Packet of Twelve 
double Cards. • 25 cents. 

PICTURES AND SONGS FOR CHILDREN. Packet of 
Twelve Cards, double paged. 25 cents. 

THE WONDERS OF ART. Packet of Twelve double 
Cards. 25 cents. 

THE WONDERS OF NATURE. Packet of Twelve Cards. 

25 cents. 

VIEWS OF AMERICAN SCENERY. Packets of Eight 

double Cards. 25 cents 

VIEWS OF AMERICAN SCENERY. Second Series. 

25 cents. 

ENGLISH CATHEDRALS. Packet of Twelve Cards. 

25 cents. 

VIEWS IN EDINBURGH. Old Town. Packet of Twelve 
Cards. 25 cents. 

THE FALLS OF NIAGARA AND THE VICINITY. 

Packet of Twelve Cards. 25 cents. 

OUR SUMMER RETREATS. Packet of Twelve Cards. 

25 cents. 

THE CITY OF NEW YORK AND ITS NEIGHBOR- 
HOOD. Packet of Ten Cards. 25 cents. 

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